Chasing Pavements
by CandicePaige
Summary: Olivia's got a new boyfriend that Elliot knows nothing about. When he finds out, you can count on some bitter arguments and jealousy! Also be prepared for the shock of Olivia's life that she never expected but always wanted. EO at some point of course!
1. Something Like Almost

**A/N:** This is the first fic I've written in a REALLY long time and a first for SVU as well so I'm a tidge nervous. I've tried along with a friend I have editing this, to correct all of the spelling and grammatical errors but if there's still a few hiding in there, please be paitient with me. I really hope you all like this! The title is Chasing Pavements after the song by ADELE. If you haven't heard it, you should because I think it fits Liv & El perfect! I'm going to have a lyric from the song at the top of each chapter so it's sorta song fic-_ish,_ not really but whatever. I'm rambling now so enjoy (hopefully!).

**Disclaimer:** Dick Wolf & Friends Own All, Do you really think they even understand how lucky they are??

Summary: Olivia's got a new boyfriend that Elliot knows nothing about. When he finds out, you can count on some bitter arguments and jealousy! Also be prepared for the shock of Olivia's life that she never expected but always wanted. EO sometime but it always takes awhile to get there with all the muck I put them through!

**Chapter 1: Something Like Almost**

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_I've made up my mind _

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**16th Precinct: Squad Room**

**Thursday, 6:17 pm**

The sounds of the station echoed vaguely in Olivia's ears as she straightened up her desk before heading out for the day. The warm glow that accompanied the present hour was slowly beginning to blend into the cool shadows of dusk before moving on to evening. Normally she would have stayed longer but she was starting to feel herself lose the tight focus she had had on her paper work earlier that morning. Besides they had just closed a case so she was surely entitled to take off an hour or two earlier than usual.

'Any big plans tonight, Benson?' A familiar voice asked from behind her. Looking up, she saw Elliot walk around and sit down at his desk, leaning back a little while awaiting her reply. A playful half smile illuminated his cool blue eyes that beheld a glint of mischief.

Simperingly, she replied with a sigh, looking back down at the files she was putting away. 'Well, if you call straightening up the apartment while watching the old reruns _big plans_,' she said with a laugh.

Slowly but surely, she and Elliot had been working their way back to civilized or at least what could be considered 'friendly' conversation. They were getting back to laughing, sometimes even _relaxing_ in each other's company. Ever since he had gone back to Kathy, something had changed - heck, their relationship was always vertiginous - but this time it was serious. Something had gone off in Olivia, some sort of switch had been flipped and illuminated a shift within her. It was of an uncharted nature, she couldn't tell you what had happened even if she wanted to. But she would always remember the feeling that submerged her when she found out Kathy was pregnant, that he was going back to her. It had been as if she was in free fall and suddenly she was overwhelmed by a feeling that bore a striking resemblance to betrayal, which only allowed an onslaught of confusion to smack her square in the face. She had no grounds to feel that way about Elliot's decision to go home - sure they were friends...but that was no excuse.

The fact that she couldn't place this feeling that tore at her insides and clung to her heart only angered her. She and Elliot had been so close for so long and she just didn't see it coming. Even still, it was more than that. It wasn't that she knew his favorite place to eat after work, or the fact that she knew he liked to write with the pen that had the blue grip instead of the red one even though they were _exactly _the same. No. It was more than that, no matter how cliché it sounded, it was true. They were on a different wave length than the rest of the world and at some point during those 2 years...sometimes, in a subconscious way, she almost thought she might have wanted...something else? Something more? At times she almost thought she saw it in his eyes, that he wanted the same thing. Almost.

But in reality, she could never allow herself to fully go _there_. She would never go so far as to let those thoughts consciously float through her mind. Not when it came to him... He meant too much. And as far as relationships went, if they even had the chance to develop

that far, she wasn't the most successful person in the world. Was it her or just the men she dated - a question she continually asked herself. It was one thing after another: she didn't have the time, she wasn't flexible, they thought the idea of 'sex crimes' was some kind of weird turn on, how does someone do a job like that day after day? Nobody understood... Except him.

He knew her, he understood her motives, he felt the same determination, the passion behind their work. It wasn't a job, it was a lifestyle, it was in their blood and it pulsed through their veins - it connected them. And yet, she still pulled away from him too. Clearly he was having issues at home, clearly neither of them knew what they really wanted. Just when she was so close to letting what would make her happy surface, she found a reason to submerge it once again. It was just like Elliot to give her that reason too, just like him to pull something like that, make her question everything.

But maybe, what bothered her most was the idea that she'd been wasting her life. She lived her life in anticipation, dating but never getting too close, letting men go before they'd ever even had a chance. She held back but she was determined to end that cycle.

'You?' she asked knowing the answer but figured to ask anyway.

'Nah. Wife. Kids. You know the drill,' he said with a small smile directed more towards her than the actual statement. Truth be told, nothing had changed or gotten better during the 2 years he and Kathy had been separated. Sure, he could put on a smile, kiss his wife on the cheek when he came home from work, and sit down and spend some 'family time' with his kids but the undercurrent was still just as tense. They all pretended to be a happy family but in reality, they picked up right where they'd left off.

Unfortunately though, things hadn't stayed the same between he and his partner, but then again, they never did. Their relationship was always in a constant shift and after he'd gone home, if that's what you wanted to call it, things took a turn for the worse. It was as if there was suddenly a mutual agreement to cease all communication between the two except for that which was absolutely necessary. Was it her doing? Was it his? Did they both distance themselves from each other all at once? He couldn't say for sure.

Part of him wished he had never sought Kathy that night... why'd he go back? But then again, he had a new son now, which in a way, made this whole mess worth it. Almost. Because that's exactly what his life was right now, a mess. At least his relationship with Olivia was on the mend, things still weren't perfect for them but how could they be? They were comfortably-awkward at best. Awkward because it had to be. Comfortable because they were both aware of it. And for them, it was okay.

'But if I find myself getting bored, I'll be sure to give you a call,' he said with laughter in his eyes as he grabbed his jacket and keys off the desk.

He gauged her reaction for a moment as a smile crept slowly across her face before laughing at his sarcasm. 'Yeah, a newborn baby - not to mention - a wife and 4 kids running around, I really don't think you'll need me to keep you busy.'

'True...' he said looking down at her desk. He paused for a second, just standing there apparently lost in thought, and she noticed his smile fade. Catching himself though, he sighed and looked back up at her. He looked far away, sadness etched in his features.

'Night Liv.' His mouth twitched in one last attempt of a smile before he left the squad room, returning home to his family.

As she watched him walk away, a small part of her heart sank. The idea of going home to her empty apartment slowly soaked through her skin causing her to release a long sigh as well. Perhaps she hoped whatever feeling had just overcome her would be exhaled along with it but she knew it was in vain.

**Benson Residence**

**Thursday, 6:52 pm**

Olivia's fingers fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door to her apartment. For some reason, the locks reflected her feelings in their decision to become increasingly difficult to cope with, which irritatingly distracted her from her inner battle of whether to order Chinese or Thai for dinner. Eventually she heard the click she'd been waiting for. She was in, but as soon as she crossed the threshold, she instantaneously noticed that something was off. All of her lights were on - she never kept them on while she was out - and movement could be heard from the kitchen. She heard her oven door creek open, then close. A shadow was moving around on the floor.

The small flash of fear that always made itself present during situations such as these, swept through her. Adrenaline began to release itself slowly into her veins. Her heart sped up. Someone had broken in.

Her hand immediately gravitated towards her gun as she observed her surroundings. The door was clearly locked when she'd arrived. They couldn't have gotten through there without a key - not to mention that she had a key and could barely get in herself! No. There was no way he came through the door. Was one of her windows broken? The one in sight was not. Did he come in through her bedroom window? Why was he in the kitchen? There was nothing of value of in there. There wasn't anything of grand value anywhere really. Her jewelry was in the bedroom - not that any of it was really worth breaking in for. But that still didn't explain why he was messing with her oven... Could you blow up a building with an oven? Why the hell would he want to blow up the building? Especially while he was in it. She was being ridiculous now. Right

As she ran these questions through her head, she was also coming up with a plan. Should she just walk in, tell him to drop his weapon? Did he have a weapon? She still couldn't see who it was. Was it even a man? The shadow looked manly, she supposed, but still - it was a _shadow_. Rather quickly she saw the shadow on the floor come closer towards the living room, closer towards the area she was in. She hadn't even put down her things yet, let alone come up with a plan of action before tensing and steadying herself and her gun before the intruder entered the room, and he was entering the room all right. She had the gun pointed straight at the entrance of her kitchen -

'Freeze!' Her voice came loudly and firm.

Immediately she regretted her actions and let her arms fall stupidly to her side. She could feel her face grow red with humiliation at the sight of Mark stopped fixed with his hands up in surrender. She shoved her gun back into its harness with frustration at her own idiocy. Throwing her bag on the floor and letting her body relax itself, she ran a hand through her 

hair. Wow. Smooth. Pull a gun out on your boyfriend. Because that's smart. Real nice. She put her hands on her hips and couldn't decide whether she was more relieved or ashamed for being so stupid.

A slow smile spread across his face as realization fell upon him. She thought someone had broken in. He laughed to himself. This was too good, he'd die before he let her live this one down. He witnessed the warm blush that crept up her neck and into her cheeks and just beamed. The pinkish hue made her eyes dance with embarrassment and her small, self conscious smile ignite with mortification. She had no idea how beautiful she looked right now, which caused a warm feeling to radiate through him, spreading to his fingertips, just watching her.

Her skin felt as if it were on fire and suddenly it was unbearably hot inside. She couldn't believe she was that stupid. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten that they'd exchanged keys only a week ago in case of emergency or in case she was a little late so he didn't have to sit outside just waiting for her. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten... She heaved a sigh of frustration and finally looked up at him. Almost glaring. She was too humiliated to put a full on glare for him, or to be truly upset.

'Is there a problem here officer?' he asked her, mockingly timid as he lowered his hands, feigning a look of confusion, trying so hard not to laugh. Who did he think he was?

She took a few steps toward him. He finally gave way to his smile and held out his arms, prepared to embrace her but not before she jokingly hit him in the chest. 'Don't you ever call anymore?!' She scolded through the heat on her face that was just now starting to fade. She let out some self pitied laughter, still scorning her actions.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' he apologized, laughing a little as he hugged her tighter before letting go. He pulled back a little so that he could see her face. He felt bad for startling her. 'I just wanted to surprise you,' he said motioning to the kitchen. Now that she wasn't so focused on the possible intruder in her home, she could faintly smell the aroma of Italian food that he always claimed to be so good at cooking, coming from the kitchen.

'Mm.' she said raising her eyebrows in an almost suspicious way before a warm smile spread across her face as she leaned in to kiss him. 'Well, I'd say it worked,' she mumbled against his lips as he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

'Really, now?' He asked, smiling in between kisses. 'I didn't notice.' A few low laughs escaped her lips as she deepened their kiss. The thought that she'd never really had anyone to come home to before, dawned upon her. This single thought suddenly triggered a wave of affection for him to wash over her -

**BEEP BEEP BEEP **

Suddenly, a loud, high pitched noise began to sound throughout the apartment. Reluctantly, Olivia pulled back a few inches. 'Think you should go make sure you're not burning down my building?' He saw her lips curve slightly.

'Probably not a _bad_ idea,' he agreed, leaning in for one last peck. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he went back into the kitchen and tried to turn off the fire alarm.

She had been seeing Mark Knowles for about 4 months now - a relatively decent amount of time for her. A few weeks after Kathy had the baby, she attended a birthday celebration for her co-worker and good friend, Casey Novak and Mark happened to be there - Friend of a Friend. When they met, Olivia honestly wasn't expecting much. Over the years, as sad as it was, she slowly began losing hope that there was that 'perfect guy' out there waiting for her that everyone tells you about as a kid. But Mark gave her hope - no he wasn't _perfect_ but he certainly brought back the idea that she might just find a little happiness one day. He was good for her.

His features were classic. They had a certain quality reminding one of a classic film star but there was still a friendly softness to his dark hair and dark eyes, much like her own, that made you feel like you'd known the guy forever. And on occasion, that's exactly how Olivia felt, like she'd known him forever. It was strange, sometimes she almost couldn't believe how much she actually _liked _him, so she tried not to think about it. Usually, around this time, she would break it off. What was the point in getting attached to people if you knew that they weren't right for you, that in the end, you could only hurt each other? But all of those times, she didn't have a guy like Mark, she didn't have someone that really cared. Mark did. Well, she thought he did. She'd never had someone that she was dating just drop by her apartment to surprise her with dinner for no apparent reason before, so that surely a sign that he did. At least a little.

She lingered on the spot for a moment in a vague haze that resembled happiness. She was happy though. She really was. Mark made her very happy. There was no stress with him, no mixed signals like the ones she'd been receiving for the past 9 years. Sure, he was recently divorced and had a kid, but it was nothing she couldn't handle - she'd truly seen it all. And he was good for her... Not to mention the fact that Olivia absolutely adored children and his daughter was the sweetest 6 year old she'd ever seen.

'I'm going to go change, alright,' she called from the living room, waiting to hear his response before continuing. She always felt uncomfortable after coming home from work without changing her clothes.

She heard all the noise in the kitchen cease and he walked out leaning up against the wall with a coy look in his eyes. 'Need help?' She couldn't help the stupid grin that sprawled itself across her face.

She raised an eye brow at him trying to down play the temptation that she knew was evident in her eyes. 'We haven't even eaten yet...'

'I don't see what that has to do with anything,' he said, charm emanating from every pore in his body, from his tone to his body language, even his smile full of straight white teeth. Damn the man.

After a short inner battle with herself, she finally said, 'Maybe later when there's no chance of you trying to burn down the building again.' And with that, she turned around, heading down the hall towards her bedroom, laughing to herself a little. It would do him a little good to wait this time.

Olivia turned on the lamp that rested on her nightstand as she heard a clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. She couldn't help but smile distantly at the thought of him running around her kitchen, trying to cook dinner for her. _Trying to cook dinner for her..._she thought to herself. At her basic core, she honestly hoped this would work out in the end. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted to throw any more time out the window.

She pulled a simple fitted, long sleeved, cotton shirt from her closet. It was a deep, sapphire color that she felt complemented her complexion well and then put on a pair of loose, low rise, black slacks. They were almost a stretch material that made relaxing possible while still looking nice. Perfect for such an occasion.

Just as she stepped towards the mirror to fix her hair a little, she heard a knock on the door. Thinking maybe her super needed something - what, she could only imagine - she stepped out of her room, walking towards the front door. She wasn't on call tonight so it couldn't be anyone from work...and if it was about work, they would just call. As she made her way towards the door, she stubbed her toe on the corner of a table, mumbling a few choice words. Mark just happened to be standing where he could easily see so after a small chuckle she heard his voice, 'You alright?' He poked his head out momentarily.

'Oh yeah, fine,' she said, brushing of the dull ache in her foot and continuing towards the door at the sound of another knock.

**Stabler Residence**

**Thursday, 6:44 pm**

_Dammit!_ Elliot slammed the door with such force that he was sure he could hear the glass vibrating in their decorative panes. He could feel his steaming blood pound against his eardrums, trying desperately to contain the urge to hit something. It simply amazed him how easily anger of this multitude could overwhelm upon a simple argument with Kathy. And for Christ's sake! He'd only missed a parent teacher conference! It wasn't as if Lizzie came home pregnant!

_'Elliot, the principle specifically asked that you be there this time and you told me that without a doubt, you'd be there! I mean, I know you generally never bothered with these things before but come on El!' _

_Elliot had known he had something to do today but with the case coming to a close, it was more of a distant thought than something on the top of his to-do list. He felt bad, he knew he'd promised Kathy he'd be there this time. He'd canceled out on his family for work plenty of times in the past so it was the least he could do but really...it was a parent-teacher conference. How serious could it be?! 'Kathy, I know...I know,' he said trying to regulate his breathing and keep his mouth shut. As he slowly paced back and forth, he could feel the anger build in his chest for the mere fact that she would not stop harping on the subject for the past ten minutes. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck in an idle attempt to relieve the tension accumulating there. Wasn't it enough for her that he was even here in the first place?!_

_''I know, I know'' she said mocking him slightly and causing his blood to boil. He could only take so much more of this. 'I'm so sick of 'I know's Elliot! It's always the same story, every single time. It's your work, I know but seriously! Don't you care about your family at all?!' Now she'd struck a nerve, and she knew it. She didn't mean for that to come out, honestly she didn't. She knew Elliot cared deeply for his family, he'd do anything for them. She knew __that his love and devotion to his family was the only reason he even began this job but after so many years, it gets old...and you forget._

_She watched him shut his eyes, flinching at her words, and turn around to face her. He was trying, he was really, really trying so hard to suppress the rage that racked his body but it was becoming difficult. How _dare_ she accuse him of not caring about his family? If anything, he cared too much! Why did she think he had this job? Why did she think he came back when she told him she was pregnant?! He was beyond over this conversation. They'd had it too many times before. 'God Dammit Kathy! It was a _Parent-Teacher Conference _for crying out loud!' _

_'With the Principle, Elliot. Lizzie's in trouble! Not to mention how embarrassing it was for me, trying to explain where you were after they'd specifically asked you to be there this time! I mean, I thought we'd picked a time that you could get off! What the hell were you doing?!'_

_'I was closing a case Kathy! Jesus!' She just didn't get it. _

_'And Olivia couldn't hold her own for an hour? Huh, El? Or is it that you really just have to be by her side 24/7?!' Kathy almost felt an instant remorse for saying it, considering all that Olivia had done for their family. Almost. It was just that after 9 years, when your husband spends more of his time with another woman instead of you, you can't help but feel the harsh burden of jealousy on a daily basis. And the worst part of it all was that she knew that as long as she and Elliot were married, there would never be another woman - not even Olivia - just because Elliot was not that kind of person, neither was Olivia from what she could gather, but she envied her on an intellectual basis. She envied that when her husband laughed, he was laughing with Olivia, that when he talked about his problems, he talked to Olivia...not her. It was rough to be 2nd in your husband's life._

_Her words hung in the air above them like a thick cloud. He could feel his heart beat violently against his ribcage as his eyes narrowed and he stared her down. She met his glare with equal force so he could clearly see the passion rooted in it. The passionate jealousy, that is. That's what it was always about. She was just so God Damn jealous. Always had been...Always would be. No baby was going to change that. The door slammed behind him._

Elliot didn't know where he was going now. He had to walk off this anger or he would surely do something he'd regret. So as if in a trance, his feet plundered on robotically, letting the madness steam off, the constant sound of his rubber soled shoes against the pavement keeping him company. All he could do was distance himself from that house, from Kathy.

He didn't want to shut her out of his life - well, in the early years he hadn't - but she made everything so difficult. He therapeutically took in the cool, sweet, spring air, letting it cleanse his lungs as he tried to gain some control over his emotions. As the fog of tormented malice began to lift from his mind, thoughts of Olivia pooled there just waiting to be noticed.

He needed to talk, get his mind off things... He needed a new perspective and even though things had been rocky lately, she always knew the right thing to say, whether it was something he wanted to hear or not, it was right. Besides, she already told him earlier that she wouldn't be doing anything tonight and he was already heading in that direction anyway. He'd have to find himself a cab and pay her a visit.

**Benson Residence**

**Thursday, 7:06 pm**

She was loosely distracted by the pain coursing through her foot that she didn't even bother checking to see who it was before opening the front door - bad move, especially for a cop, NYPD no less. But before she even realized her mistake, it had swung open and she merely stood there...dumbfounded. Her eyes barely had time to register him before he began to speak.

'So I know that cleaning your apartment has got to be more appealing to you than Chinese food right now but I'm thinking if you give me a minute or two, I might be able to change your mind,' he said with a twinkle in his eye. His eyes quickly combed over her, God, she was beautiful. She had changed since they'd left for work. He liked seeing her relaxed like that outside of work. It seemed like it'd been forever...

She didn't say anything. She just sort of stood there with her hand on the door, staring blankly at him. Did she even hear him? Was she playing dumb and just didn't want to go? No, that wasn't like Liv. Well, he knew it had been a while but seriously... But just as the leak of panic sprung, she snapped out it but he wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing since the look on her face made him question if he'd just grown an extra head.

'Elliot, what are you doing here?' The tone of her voice was so serious... He didn't get it. They used to do this all the time and it had never been a problem before. Sure, things had changed but he had really thought they were getting back into the swing of things.

"I told you I was coming over if I got bored. Did you really think I was kidding?" He tried to lighten the mood but she was making it so difficult with the sound of her voice and the look on her face. It made him feel like he was asking her for a kidney - and she'd already promised him one anyway!

"El-" she started, blinking her eyes as if she thought that he might be gone when she opened them again. Wrong. She didn't know what she could possibly say. She hadn't expected him - _him_ of all people...at least not right now. "I-um," She tried to begin what might be considered an explanation but wasn't sure if she was going to manage. "Listen-"

"Liv, babe! Dinner's almost ready. Or at least what's left of it if you want to come in here real quick." A voice sounded from within her apartment. Apparently, he was unaware that she was still at the door. She felt her body tense at his words, how could she not with Elliot standing right there? She didn't have a shot in hell of getting out this one now.

He was so taken aback that he wasn't even sure he could process what he'd just heard. It wasn't until he felt his stomach churn and knot itself that realization dawned upon him. She wasn't alone. She had some guy back there and here he was, standing on her door step. Instantly he felt as if he were the world's single, biggest idiot. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Kay! Ehm, just... give me a second." She called back to him then turned around to face Elliot again. A shameful look swept over her eyes as she looked up at him. His jaw shifted forward and his mouth tightened, trying to keep his face from surrendering to the hurt that obviously was threatening to overcome his features. She couldn't bare the fact that her actions had caused this reaction in him. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and explain but nothing came out. She'd never been in a situation like this before...

"Oh-" he said clearing his throat trying to rid his voice of the emotion that hopelessly clung to it. "Um - I guess I should uh..." he attempted to string together a sentence, motioning towards the stairs, but he felt slightly disorientated. He still couldn't grasp what was going on.

"Elliot- No, wait-" she started, stepping towards him - a useless attempt to get him to stop because he wouldn't let her. There was no way he was going to let her embarrass him any more than she'd already managed, by taking pity on him. He didn't think he could handle it.

"No," he said and she stopped. "No-no, I'm gunna go and um... you two," he vaguely motioned towards her and then the building in an almost drunken fashion. "Uh - you two have fun..." he said surprised that he could even get the words out. He gave a short but adamant nod, wishing he'd never come. How could he have been so stupid?

"El..." she hardly got out but it was too late. She watched him disappear down the stairs and it was as if a tidal wave of guilt came crashing down on her. She knew she didn't have the strength nor the heart to emerge from it right now so she just let it surround her. She couldn't move.

_A/N: Hope you like it so far! If you did, please Review. If you didn't, please Review! Haha Just the click of a button and you'll absolutely make my day! Just let me know if you read and want more. Suggestions are always taken into account and I love to hear from you! Especially since it's the first time. THANKS! - Candice_


	2. Something Like Slipping

**A/N:** Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed! You have no idea ( well maybe you do ) how happy reviews make me! And thanks for your words of encouragement. I always want to thank my SVU Obsession Buddy & Editor for helping me out witht his chapter. It's a tough one to keep these two in character when they're at each other's throats! Anyhoo, the first half is pretty descriptive but dont let that discourage you! El/Liv Battle Royale occurs before the chapter's up so stick with me folks! Any of you go and look up this song yet?? You _should_ :) haha Did any of you REVIEW yet?? You _should_ :)

**Disclaimer:** I've come to the realization that the only thing better than EO sexual tension, is EO steamy make out session on Tuesdays at 10! & I think Dick Wolf wants the BEST show he can get, right?? Hint hint.

**Chapter 2: Something Like Slipping**

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Don't need to think it over

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**16th Precinct: The Crib**

**Friday, 5:45 am**

Elliot had virtually gotten no sleep after he left Olivia's last night. He'd left a message at home for Kathy, telling her that he'd be spending the night at the precinct and not to worry. He didn't feel like going home when he was in such a state of hurt and angry confusion.

As he stared, eyes fixed on the ceiling above, he could not shake his thoughts from her. The events of last night refused to cease from replaying themselves over and over through his mind like a home movie that just didn't end. It immediately kept going back to the start, each viewing leaving him more disturbed than the one before. It refused to grow obsolete. Each time he revisited her puzzled eyes and each time he saw her grip tighten on the door at the sound of that guy's voice...each time he took in her guilty countenance, he allowed more restless frustration to build within him.

How could she do it? She'd lied to him. Yesterday, when he'd asked her what she was doing after work, did she just happen to leave out that she had someone coming over? Why didn't she feel like she could tell him these things? Earlier before they'd left work, he could have sworn that the strain of the past few years had just melted away but...maybe you just couldn't burry the past. He still just couldn't wrap his head around it, _she was lying to him now_. It didn't make sense. It didn't fit. She'd never lied to him before, at least not about things like this. She couldn't have just said "I have a date," or "I have someone coming by,"? Why didn't she want him to know about this mystery guy? What was so special about him that he wasn't allowed to know? It's not like he cared that she had a boyfriend! Past tense, of course. Now he cared. He couldn't get it off his mind.

How serious were they? His mind refused to leave that single question alone, poking at it continuously. Was it just _another guy_ or was this _the guy_? _The guy_ she would eventually come in talking about, dropping his name in and out of conversation as if he were engraved into her everyday life? If so... he should have known. She should have told him. Or at least he should have sensed it. But that didn't change the fact that she wasn't truthful with him...

Maybe what was bothering him most, was that just when he thought he'd gotten her back, his best friend, he felt like he was losing her all over again. It was as if he was watching her slip right through his fingers like running water and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it.

**16th Precinct: Squad Room**

**Friday, 7:03 am**

Olivia made her way into the squad room, which was in a lazy state of calm. A few people roamed about indolently, sipping coffee, sorting files, preparing for the day. This was her favorite time of day, which was the main reason she arrived about an hour before the crowd. It was her time to relax, clear her head, collect herself before the day ahead, and on this morning, she was almost certain that she needed this time more than usual.

The events of last night swam through her head all evening, which wasn't exactly fair to her or Mark, but especially not Mark. He'd gone through so much trouble just to make the evening nice for her and it was all she could do to distract herself from thinking about what happened with Elliot... She still wasn't exactly sure what _had_ happened. What was more though was the fact that she felt so at fault. She felt in the wrong, as if she was the one to blame for the whole situation. How could she have known that Mark was waiting for her at home? How could she have known Elliot was going to stop by? Apparently, the universe enjoyed dumping loads of crap on her doorstep and watching her try to clean it up. Thankfully Mark didn't really press her when she brushed off his questions about who was at the door and she was at least able to act as if nothing was bothering her throughout most of the night.

She only hoped that she and Elliot could both do their jobs today without making this into an ordeal. She still had no idea what to expect because of the mere fact that she still had no idea what happened. She'd just have to wait and see. What she didn't know was that she wouldn't have to wait as long as she expected.

As Olivia went to put her coat away, much to her dismay, Elliot emerged from the crib. He must have spent the night there after he left her place... Surprisingly, a pang of fear stabbed at her insides. What should she say? What _could _she say? Was there even anything to say at all? Should she ignore what had happened last night? Act as if it had never happened? Did he even want to acknowledge it? Should she let him approach her? She hadn't had a chance to think about these things yet. He'd stolen her hour in which she had planned to sort all this out.

As her mind flooded with questions regarding the appropriate conduct, their eyes met. His red rimmed, steel blue eyes gave the indication that he'd gotten little sleep, if any at all, but that's not what scarred her. When he looked at her, she didn't see him - not even angry, distant or sad him. Any of those emotions would have sent her jumping for joy compared to sight she witnessed now. When she looked at him...she saw nothing. His eyes were like a vacuum that echoed with an emptiness that sent its hollow vibrations straight to her core, chilling her bones. His stare indifferently ripped right through her, unmoving, steady, and vacant. It was worse than she even imagined. What could she possibly have done to deserve this?

But before she could even react, he brushed right by her, and didn't look back - thank God. She felt her heart grow cold and her lungs ice over, which bore a stark contrast to the searing tears that suddenly formed in her eyes. She took a deep breath, blinking them back, regaining control of herself, and she kept walking. Casting her gaze downward and shaking her head slightly in disbelief, she asked herself how in the world she could make this right again.

**16th Precinct: Squad Room**

**Friday, 7:46 am**

Elliot stared blankly down at a case file. If anyone was really paying attention, they would easily see that he wasn't taking in a word of it. His thoughts were far too distracted by the woman sitting across from him, glancing his way every few minutes. Smartly, he chose not to acknowledge this. He was too ashamed.

He never intended to treat her so coldly, if it could even be called that. Sure, he'd given her the cold shoulder before, but he knew he'd crossed the line earlier. He couldn't help it though! When he saw her face all that could be heard, echoing through his mind was _Liv, babe -_ his voice from inside her home - a constant reminder that she'd lied to him, that she'd deliberately tried to hide her relationship with whoever that jackass was!

Still, if he could take it back, he would in a heartbeat.

**16th Precinct: Squad Room**

**Friday, 8:08 am**

The constant buzz of the now bustling precinct was beginning to cause Olivia to feel light headed. Her emotions were tearing into her so relentlessly that she wasn't sure how to cope with them at this point... so she blocked them out. As if in a daze, she sat at her desk, staring off into space while trying to exclude all conscious thought. If she didn't have to think about him and if she didn't have to visibly register him, she didn't feel so bad. But why should she feel bad, had she even done anything? But then she heard Cragen's voice intrudingly pull her out of the macrocosm she'd recently constructed around herself.

"Alright everyone, we've got a new case underway," he said causing the group to gather around him. "I've just gotten a call about Angela-Leigh Simmons, 26, raped and murdered in her apartment, found by the landlord who called it in. By the sounds of it, it's pretty bad. Benson, Stabler, I want you two down there checking it out, here's the address," he said handing her a piece of paper. "Warner should be there, check in with her, and report back later. Also, they're holding the landlord there until you get the chance to talk to him, see if he can tell us anything about this or her family."

Olivia gave a small nod to show her understanding and sighed at the thought of spending the day outside of the precinct with her partner. There was no avoiding him now. But when she looked up, Elliot was already on his way out the door and she couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at his departing figure. Rolling her eyes, she heaved herself up knowing that this was going to be a long day. She wasn't quite sure that she was up for being tolerant either.

**Outside the 16th Precinct **

**Friday, 8:17 am**

"Hey," she called after him, stepping out of the precinct. Her voice indicated all business - short and resolute. She didn't see any reason to let him jerk her around and make her feel like the bad guy when she did nothing wrong. But when he didn't turn around and continued down the side walk, she called again, a little more pissed off since he was directly ignoring her now.

"Yeah," he said turning around nonchalantly with an air of disinterest, still about 15 paces in front of her. Shifting his weight and squinting his eyes slightly, he mutely told her that he wasn't exactly up for this conversation right now but she could care less. She was starting to become angry at his visible exhibition of disregard.

"You feel like telling me what's going on with you?" She asked, indignance audibly penetrating her words. He could tell she was angry and her eyes shone with determination but he didn't have the strength for a full on fight after the night he'd had.

He shook his head with frustration, brushing her off, and turned around again. "There's nothing going on."

"Like hell there isn't!" She shot back at him, her voice dripping with accusation. She wasn't letting this go.

"You sure you want to go there, Olivia?" He asked facing her once again, putting force behind his words - maybe he did have the strength for this after all. His voice began building in volume before she cut him off, "Because if you're trying to say that _I'm_ the one lying here-"

"If the shoe fits."

He looked her over for a moment, trying to decide whether he was going to let loose his frustrations or simply walk away - probably the more sensible choice when concerning his temper. "Whatever Olivia, think what you want," he spat at her, turning to walk away again.

She couldn't believe he was doing this to her, after all the crap he put her through. "Elliot, if this is about last night-"

"This is not about last night!" He flung back at her and kept walking.

"Then what _is_ it about?!"

He stopped, took a few breaths and walked back, glaring at her. His voice came out low and resentful. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to tell me what makes you think you can stare me down and then flinch every time I so much as look in your direction." Her voice came steady and unyielding as he continued to glare at her.

"I don't know Liv, maybe you should just go ask your boyfriend," he replied in the same low and bitter tone.

"Don't bring Mark into this. It's not about him," she told him, determined not to let the subject stray.

"Of course it is!"

"What?"

"Look," he said bringing his voice back down into a vicious scold. "I don't care that you got some little boyfriend or whatever the hell he is, I just wanna know why you think you have to lie to me about it!"

"I never lied about anything!"

He let out a humorless laugh of disbelief. "How about yesterday? When I asked you what you were doing after work, you just happened to leave him out of it?"

She couldn't believe it. Of course, as she quickly relived last night, she could somewhat understand where he was coming from but still - did he really think she would do something like that?! "Elliot, I had no idea he was going to be there when I got home!"

Elliot barely let these words sink in before he was off on her again. She'd asked for it. "So what, he's got a key now? Jesus! Olivia, how long have you been seeing this guy?!"

"Who the hell do you think you are? My father?"

"I'm the closest damn thing you've ever had and you know it! And I'm sure as hell better than some Goddamn rapist!"

Olivia's mouth was already open, prepared to throw back a quick response, but there was no way she could have prepared herself for the low blow that just hit her below the ribcage. His words sliced through her and he saw her fiery eyes retreat and glaze over with a mixture of hurt and denial. She felt as if she was going to be sick. What could she say to that? She could hardly believe Elliot would bring any of that up in the first place, let alone use it to cut her down… If he was trying to hurt her, he did a damn good job. A+ Stabler. Way to go.

"Go to hell," she finally said, her voice hoarse with sobriety, and walked past him, hugging her jacket closer to her, shoulders schlumped in defeat.

He lingered on the spot for a moment, furious with himself. How could he have allowed himself to say something like that to her – her, his partner, his best friend, one of the most important people in his life. "Olivia...!" He groaned, cursing under his breath before turning around to follow her.

"Save it!"

_A/N: Oh dear. Look what these two got themselves into! Sigh... Will they ever learn? REVIEW & I might let you know. Plus, reviews make Happy Authors. & what do Happy Authors make? EO Steamy Make Out Session! Woo Hoo! I think you know what to do ;)_


	3. Something Like Silence

**A/N: **Thank you so much for all those lovely reviews I've been getting! Every time I see that I've got a new one, you can only imagine how excited I become! So, many thanks! We're starting to get into the 'Case-stuff' that is essential to the story in the long run so I have to write it, not nearly as fun as EO banter but hey, what can you do? But I try to sneak as much EO in between as possible so don't fret none! Stick with me!

**Disclaimer:** Should we finally tell Dick Wolf that he has the actual ABILITY to get them together? I mean, he can't _possibly_ _know_ since they're still so...not... together.

**Chapter 3: Something Like Silence**

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If I'm wrong I am right

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**Simmons' Residence**

**Friday, 8:30 am**

"This is the guy that found her," one of the guys from the CSU said, leading the pair to the landlord. He was a short, fat man, who had hair everywhere except his head and kind of reminded Olivia of her own landlord. Did they all look the same or were stereotypes really taking over? Regardless, he looked nervous…and sweaty, Olivia noticed with an internal sigh of reluctance.

She glanced over at Elliot, who was taking out a pen and paper, as they prepared for the interview and introduced themselves. This place wasn't far from the precinct so in her heated mindset after their argument, she had made the muted decision to walk. After he had tried to apologize a few times, he eventually got the hint to drop it when she continued to give him the silent treatment. She didn't want to look at him, let alone hear whatever it was he felt the need to say, probably in order to ease his conscience anyway. All she wanted was to get the job done, do what she was here to do. And certainly not think of him.

Still, his words rang through her mind as if they were a track on repeat. _I'm the closest thing damn thing_ you've _ever had and you know it!_ And as these words reverberated in the hollows of her mind, she couldn't help but think that they were the truest words ever spoken. She tried to tell herself that he didn't care about her, plenty of other people looked out for her, and he didn't give a shit about her feelings at all – let alone if something actually happened to her. But as she told herself these things, she was ruefully unconvinced. More often than not, he was the one she turned to at the end of a hard day, and he was the first one to tell her whenever, and if ever, she was out of line. He was always the first one to build her up when she was misconstrued, and to tear her down when she was amiss. But that's what friends were supposed to do, they were _supposed_ to be there for each other! He acted like it was a chore, not a will. Yes, he _acted_ that way, and sometimes she seriously wondered if that was how he actually _felt _as well. _It was in the heat of the moment_, she told herself after a while. _He hadn't meant those things… _

She knew she had to focus on work or she'd be done for. This train of thought could lead down a gruesome path, a path down which she didn't wish to travel – not now, not ever. _Work_, she told herself, _just work_.

They had already checked in with the M.E. and it was horrific. If Olivia wasn't already feeling nauseous, the site of that girl's body was enough to do the trick. Her throat was slashed, it looked as if there had been some serious blunt force trauma, and her body was not only covered in bruises, but in cuts as well. It looked as if the bastard was trying to create a mosaic or some sort of dramatic work of art with her skin, nothing was untouched from the neck down - he took his time. But it wasn't merely that, the design and decorative, curling lines were so intricate, so precise, so meticulous. And to top it all off, she was covered in rose petals, scattered all around her, as if it was something of beauty. She knew they had to be dealing with sociopath, which just completely made her day!

"So let's start at the beginning," Elliot stated looking up at the large, perspiring man in the chair. "Where'd you find her?"

"In her bedroom, lyin' there on her bed," he told them. "She was covered in rose petals or somethin' it was like somethin' outta some Disney movie, I'm tellin' ya."

"Okay," Olivia said. "What were you doing in her apartment in the first place? Have a thing for her? Was she late on her rent? What?"

"She was always a little behind on her rent," he explained, wiping moisture from his brow. "But she was cute, ya know? So sometimes I'd let her slide a little… She always swore she'd pay me back and I knows she's got it a little rough but it was gettin' to the point where I gots IOU's spillin' out my ass! I had to do somethin' about it…so I come down to talk to her this morning because I know she'll be leavin' soon. When she didn't answer, I dunno… I guess I wanted to make sure she was okay, ya know? Make sure nothin' had happened to her. That's when I found her in there."

"You say you let her slide a little," Elliot pointed out, looking up at him. "You two, uh, ever work out some kind of arrangement?" he asked suggestively.

"No! No," the landlord said defensively, immediately understanding what Elliot was trying to insinuate. "Don't you be thinkin' that! I'm not that kind of guy and she was certainly not that kind of girl," he said looking down.

"What kind of a girl was she, you said that you knew she had it rough?" Olivia asked him suspiciously. For a landlord, he seemed to know a lot about this girl.

"Well, I knows that she was a dancer," he explained. "And ya know, it's New York, it's a tough road! But I mean, I don't know no details or nothin! Just what I see every now an' again…"

Walking out of the building a good hour later, the two began walking back towards the precinct. After they'd finished the interview, they'd found the address for both an aunt that lived in the city and the dance studio she attended. Elliot had just gotten off the phone with the Captain, telling him what they'd found out.

"So," Elliot started almost hesitantly. She still wasn't talking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. "You think we should pick up the Sudan this time instead of walking out to Brooklyn?" he asked referring to her earlier decision to walk to the vic's house.

"Fine." She was short with him and her voice was cold. She didn't exactly want to be in a car alone with him right now but it looked like she had no choice.

"How many times are you going to make me apologize to you, huh?" He knew he'd hurt her and he was sorry. He really was but he didn't know what else to do. If he wasn't still simmering about the fact that she still had some boyfriend that he _still_ knew nothing about, he might see that he deserved the silent treatment.

_A good 500 hundred thousand more times might do you some good_, she thought to herself in response to his question. She considered saying something back but then decided against it. When was he going to realize that supposed friends don't treat each other like shit?

**Sudan en route to the Green Residence**

**Friday, 9:42 am**

They'd only been in the Sudan on their way to Angela's aunt's house for a few minutes and already the silence was eating at them. All that could be heard was the low vibrations coming from the rumbling engine and an occasional annoying click-click-click whenever the blinker was needed. Olivia sat, looking out the window, with her arms loosely folded across her chest as Elliot drove. He wasn't going to try and push her any more than he already had, she would hopefully forgive him in time. He only hoped it wasn't too long because with the way things were going at home, she was about the only thing he had to hang onto besides his job. So he kept driving. Thinking about the case. Or at least trying to.

Mark? His name was _Mark_? What kind of name was that anyway? Mark… He hated that name. It was so… _Mark_. Mark. Marrrk. He sneered inwardly. How could she date a guy with a name like that? He then wondered what the idiot did for a living. Was he a lawyer, someone he would have seen before? Nah… He probably worked at Burger Buddies or something like that. Did he even have an education? She was obviously too good for him! What was she thinking going out with some low-life like _Mark_?! But who was he kidding? Olivia was too smart for that, she wouldn't date any piece of trash off the street. This guy had a key, a key that she'd _given _him. She trusted this Mark guy. He then wondered how long she'd been seeing him again.

Suddenly a new sort of vibration could be registered throughout the car as Olivia's cell phone buzzed. She removed it from her pocket, wondering if Cragen was going to tell them to turn around and head back to the house for some reason but with one look at the caller-ID, her wonders were put to death. It was Mark. Right. Perfect. Because the situation wasn't already sufficiently awkward… Timing really wasn't on her side and she was becoming convinced that the universe really _did_ hate her. It wasn't her imagination. Reluctantly she hit the talk button and held the phone to her ear, unconsciously shifting her body towards the window.

"Hello?"

"_Hey there, it's me. How's your morning so far?"_

Olivia could see Elliot's eyes dart in her direction and heat began to rise in her cheeks. She could only imagine what this would lead to. "Uh – alright, I guess…" she said, her voice audibly strained.

"_Can't really talk about it right now, huh?"_ he asked picking up on her tone. God bless him.

"Not exactly..."

"_Well, I really just wanted to ask if you were free for lunch but now I'm considering how long I can keep you on the phone while I talk dirty."_ She could practically see the smirk sliding across his face and she actually had to restrain herself from smiling as well. At least he made her _want_ to smile.

"I'd advise you against it," she cautioned him. Knowing Elliot was listening, she attempted to make it sound like she wasn't talking to anybody in particular. But if he asked her about it, she didn't want to lie. He already thought she was keeping things from him. And it's not like she wasn't going to tell him eventually! It just never came up and what would she have said anyway? '_Oh, hey Elliot, guess what? I met this really great guy. I think this relationship might actually work! And I'm sure you want to hear all about it since I know you're marriage is practically flushed down the toilet-again!_' Yeah. Right. That worked. Hopefully, he just wouldn't ask at all, knowing that he still wasn't in her good graces. Then again, it never stopped him before…

"_You're lucky because I don't have time right now, but you just wait until next time,"_ he said, knowing that she still wasn't in a place where she could talk freely since he could hear her trying to suppress a few muffled laughs. _"So how 'bout it? Can you do lunch or will I be sorely disappointed?"_ he asked teasingly.

"I really don't know if I can…"

"_Let me pick you up after work then."_ He didn't care. As long as he got to see her.

"It might be late," she said, warning him. They were on call tonight and even though she hoped this case would wrap up soon, there was no way to know for sure.

"_It doesn't matter. Just call me when you get off. I'll take you home."_

"Alright," she said, and then remembered that she'd driven to work today and if he picked her up, she wouldn't be able to get back the next morning. "But you might have to give me a ride to work tomorrow, if that's okay, because my car's still at the station."

"_I don't see how that's a problem."_

"Okay," she finally sighed in agreement.

"_Great. I'll see you later, then?"_

"Yeah…"

"_Okay, See you then, bye."_

"Alright, bye," She said quietly, hoping her partner was more focused on the road than on her conversation. The few moments of silence between them after she'd ended her call, seemed to stretch into hours before he spoke. The tension spread and scattered hot needles across her back that caused her to feel like he'd just turned the heater on in June.

"That Mark?" He asked casually before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, not that I see how it's any of your business," she replied sharply, keeping her eyes glued to the road. Did he really expect her to just suddenly open up to him after what he'd said earlier? Even though she had basically decided that his words were the truth, that didn't mean she had to come to terms with them yet! As far as he knew, she still had every right to be furious with him! She wouldn't let him think that he could get off that easily.

"Just making conversation," he stated calmly.

"Well, don't."

More silence. "So, you two are pretty serious, then?" He couldn't help himself.

She turned her head to look at him with an expression of bewilderment. "What part of, Leave It Alone, don't you understand?"

"Can I help it that I want to know what's going on in your life?" It was practically all he'd thought about.

"Maybe you'll think about that next time," she began sternly, "Before you jump to conclusions and make an ass of yourself."

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh then put it back on the steering wheel. He didn't know what else he could say to her, how could he make her understand? How would she ever know what this was doing to him? "Olivia… what can I say? I'm sorry. You know that. I just…" he trailed off with a grunt, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, whatever you 'just…'" she sneered, "Just keep it to yourself because I'm sick of hearing about it."

He shot her a glare before turning his attention back to the road. "Fine," he said bitterly.

"Fine!"

"So do you love him?"

"God damn you!"

**Green Residence**

**Friday, 10:45 am**

"Do you have an idea how we could get in touch with her parents?" Olivia asked Angela's grief stricken aunt. Her mascara was already spread messily, dripping across her face and they'd only just told her. They must have been close.

"Both of her parents passed," she commented through her uneven breaths. "Just a few months ago. In a car crash," she barely got out with a sob. "How could this have happened?"

"We're very sorry for your loss ma'am," Elliot said comfortingly. "But if you answer a few questions, it could really help in our investigation." The weeping woman nodded her head slightly in compliance. "Alright, first of all, you know anybody who would want to hurt Angela? Any boyfriends? Creeps following her or causing trouble?"

She shook her head. "No… She did have a boyfriend a few months ago but I think she told me that she'd broken that off."

"Do you know his name or where he lives?" Olivia asked.

"I think she said his name was Brendan but I never knew his last name. I only saw him once, through the window," she said pointing next to the door. "He was waiting for her outside in a car one day."

"Do you remember what kind of car it was?" he asked and she shook her head and began to cry again.

"I – I know it was black but that doesn't help," she said breaking down again. Olivia put a soothing hand on her back and promised her that it would be okay. Even as heartbreaking as it was dealing with the victim's family, sometimes it was better than being locked in a car with her partner – and that fact alone, was even more difficult to deal with.

**DSU Dance Studio**

**Friday, 12:12 pm**

"Did she mention anything that was troubling her lately?" Olivia asked the older woman who had just finished instructing a class. She was dressed in loose dance clothing and looked maybe in her early 50's. She was blonde and wore too much makeup, making her eyes look more deep set than they actually were, but other than that she looked decent for her age.

"No, not really," she said evenly after getting over the initial shock. "She liked to keep to herself most of the time. I didn't know her too well."

"I thought she's been dancing here for 4 years?" he asked, thinking that after seeing someone practically day-after-day for 4 years, you should probably know a thing or two.

"Like I said," the woman started, her voice icing over as became slightly offended. "She liked to keep to herself." When she noticed that the two detectives were still staring at her expectantly, she heaved a deep sigh before deciding to continue. "But I suppose I did overhear her say something about being followed on her way here once or twice-"

"And you didn't see that as cause for alarm?" Olivia asked incredulously.

"Angela was a beautiful girl," she explained, raising her eyebrows and accentuating her bad makeup. "She always had men following her, and she didn't seem as 'alarmed' about it as you might think. It was more of a joke than anything else."

Elliot couldn't believe it. A joke? Being followed was a joke to this woman? _Some people,_ he thought to himself before looking up from his notepad. "There were no messages on her machine when we stopped by earlier. Why didn't you call when she didn't show up last night?" Elliot asked her with a hint of suspicion in his voice. She was quick to pick up on it.

"Girls don't show up for class all the time. It's nothing out of the ordinary. I suppose if she continued to no-show, I would have called eventually," she stated with air of finality. "Is that all?"

**Outside of DSU Dance Studio**

**Friday, 12:16 pm**

"You buy any of that?" Elliot asked her as they stepped out of the building and onto the streets. They faced each other, like they always did before making a decision on where to turn next, and Olivia nearly forgot that she was still angry with him but she wouldn't let him know that…at least not for a day or two. She couldn't let him think that he could get away with saying anything he wanted without consequence.

She was trying to stay mad at him, and minimally she still was, but she knew it couldn't go on much longer. Trying to convince herself that he was wrong, was not the right thing to do because she was well aware that he was right, and for that, she couldn't stay angry. In her heart of hearts, she knew that he'd said what he said, only because he was hurt that he hadn't known about Mark, hurt that she didn't tell him. But then again, after he'd gone back to Kathy, she didn't tell him a lot of things… It never seemed to bother him before, which was actually another reason she knew that she wouldn't stay mad at him. He was jealous. Truthfully, every time she thought about it, the fact that her partner was jealous of her boyfriend, she couldn't help the vindictive smile that curved at the sides of her mouth. A little jealousy would do him good - especially after the hell he'd put her emotions through. He deserved it. Besides, she could probably testify better than anyone that jealousy was easily punishment enough. Karma's a bitch.

"It's hard to tell."

"Alright…" he said dragging out the word a little and then looking away. Sighing, he knew she wasn't going to make this day easy on him. "Do you, at least, want to grab a bite before we check in with Cragen?" he asked motioning towards the little deli across the street. Neither had eaten breakfast in their hectic state of mind. Heck, he could hardly touch his coffee this morning, let alone eat, and he knew that if they didn't eat now, there was no chance of it once they got back to the one six.

He watched her follow his hand and look in the direction of the convenient eatery and nod. He also could have sworn he'd caught a glimpse of a smile as her eyes met his but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't promising but regardless…it gave him hope.

_A/N: Hope that works! Suggestions are always taken, remember. I have an idea of where this is going but just let me know what you're thinking! And after this chapter, I have no one to edit (she's out of town for 3 weeks!) and tell me when I get them out of character so... I dont know what I'm going to do!! Oh well, I'll do my best. Just send those reviews my way & I'm sure the chapters will just get LOADS better ;) & Faster too! I'm sure! Haha. Do what you do. You know it's all I look forward to, right?! Haha Thanks! - Candice_


	4. Something Like Temptation

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! Sorry it took longer than usual to update! I'm being monitored by my parents about what time I go to sleep, which is RIDICULOUS if you ask me! So I only have a few hours to write every day here and there - & this takes a long time... ugh.

Sudan vs. Sedan- I'd like to take this space to apologize for all the 'Sudan's in the last chapter. I was so completely unaware that it was _Sedan_ haha & I also tend to be the worst speller of words in general, but my editor didn't catch it either! So I guess we're both stupid... I actually lost a little sleep over this, no lie, that's how dumb I felt. Sorry!

Preggo My Eggo- Some of you want to know if Liv's pregnant...Welll, now I'm a huge fan of Pregnant Olivia stories & I've been trying to think of ways to address your questions without totally giving away some of the story. But honestly I don't know if I can... There's deffinatly a few twists & turns in chapters to come so you'll just have to stick with me to find out what happens. But I think every one's first thoughts when Liv gets nauseous, are that she's pregnant - I think that might be some sort of wishful thinking though!

Kick the Bucket- And for those who are wondering, this is not a dead story! This chapter just took forever (actually only a week) since I had to keep reading/ re-reading to check for errors and characterization because my editor is out of town!! Please forgive me if I missed some! I'm really nervous about this chapter, eek. & I know there are some of you out there who aren't reviewing! THAT, is one terrrrible habit, you should break it starting now.

**Disclaimer:** I think if I owned them, Liv's haircut in season 2 would have never existed. Seriously, I can't watch episodes from that season - It bothers me **that much**. So if anything great happened in season 2... I'm sorry, I have no knowledge. Btw: Dick Wolf is like the master of ownage - ever notice that he owns like...everything.

**Chapter 4: Something Like Temptation**

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This 'Aint Lust

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**Danny's Corner Deli**

**Friday, 12:30 pm**

They'd just recently fallen into a comfortable silence after finishing their sandwiches and discussing the case. They both agreed that their best lead at the moment was the ex boyfriend, and they intended to go back to the station to see if they could find a Brendan in the system that matched the aunt's vague description.

Elliot took another sip of his coke before throwing his soiled paper plate away. He looked over at Olivia, who happened to be staring up at the dance studio's wall-length window, which was on the second story of the building across the street. He noticed the wind softly playing with the ends of her pony tail; she'd only just pulled it up. He liked when it did that and took advantage of the fact that she was obviously lost in thought, to openly take her in. He noticed that she wasn't as prominently cold with him as she had been a few hours ago but he could tell just by the way she held herself, that her guard was still up. Yet, even as they sat there, he could feel the tension become more soluble. It was odd, she was usually so cut throat when he screwed up. Maybe his apologies got through to her this time? Maybe he sounded more sincere than usual? Or maybe she just didn't want to put up with this whole situation snow balling into another incident where they both ended up transferring to computer crimes or God only knows what else… Either way, he wasn't complaining.

"Hey," she said, intruding on his thoughts in attempt to get his attention, keeping her eyes fixed on the window. She didn't know that she'd already had it for some time now. "You'd think if the boyfriend was stalking her, he'd have the perfect view to watch her for hours, right here without anyone getting suspicious." He raised his eyebrows and looked to the window where he saw the new class stretching. She had a point. And someone would have seen.

"Let's go to talk to the guy up front," he said standing up.

Within moments they were standing in front of, what looked like, the shop owner's son. He was maybe seventeen and had a kind, but somewhat intimidated, face as the detectives approached him and flashed their badges.

"You must get a lot of people who come by and like to watch, huh?" Olivia asked pointing to the large window where the girls were now spinning and leaping with agility. His gaze followed her hand and rested on the studio.

"Ugh…Yeah, I guess so," he answered, unsure of himself. He was perceptibly nervous but most people were when questioned by the authorities.

"Ever notice anyone hanging around longer or more often than called for?" Elliot asked. The kid shrugged his shoulders and tried to think quickly. "Nobody just sitting around lately, particularly staring at that window?"

"Well, there are always a few people, I guess. I mean… I dunno."

"Anyone that specifically struck you as odd?" Olivia asked, a little more firmly, tired of such indirect answers.

The boy's eyes darted between the two detectives anxiously. "Am I in some kind of trouble here? What's this about?"

"Don't worry, you're fine," Olivia assured him. "We just need you to answer the questions."

"Well," he said as if he were thinking about it and looking a bit more relieved. "I guess there's these two guys-"

"Could you describe them for us?" Elliot asked, preparing to take notes.

"Yeah, um, one's probably in his 20's. Skinny guy, black hair, white, and I don't know, maybe about 5'8. Always wearin' a green jacket. Comes by about twice a week. The other one's…like, gosh late 30's maybe? Maybe 40's. Wears a suit and tie, looks real nice, all cleaned up like he just came out of a meeting. He sits and watches, either here, or from his car. He's white too. Grey-ish brown hair, pretty tall, average, I guess, not sure really," he told them as Elliot quickly jotted everything down.

"Do these days and times seem, to you, about around the time that these two guys would show up?" she asked handing him a copy of Angela's dance schedule.

He nodded. "Yeah, those seem about right."

"Good."

"Yeah. Thanks for the help kid," Elliot said putting away the pad. Hopefully, they would have a solid lead by the end of the day.

**16****th**** Precinct: Squad Room**

**Friday, 1:00 pm**

"Munch I want you to check out this guy's M.O., see if matches anyone in the system, even though I doubt you'll find one," Cragen muttered under his breath with a sigh.

"I'm telling you Captain, this guy was smart about it," Olivia explained. "Somehow he got her to open the door, beat her up pretty bad and then cleaned up his messed without leaving any evidence behind. Even the champagne glasses that he, no doubt, staged after the fact, had no prints or saliva on them. This was clearly premeditated."

Cragen nodded thoughtfully. "And you said that she thought she was being followed?"

"Yeah, we got a guy across the street from where she dances, to give us the descriptions of two guys that seem to like to watch her for over 2 hours at a time on the days that she's in class. One of them sorta matches the description that we got from the aunt but hers wasn't that great to begin with. We don't know if the other guy's just a coincidence or something to worry about, but my bet's on the ex," Elliot told him.

"Alright, Fin, I want you looking into this ex boyfriend, see if you can get a last name or an address. You two headed down to Warner's?"

They both nodded and were off.

**16****th**** Precinct: Squad Room**

**Friday, 9:44 pm**

Olivia had just called Mark and he was on his way to pick her up. She was ready to go home and was glad that he didn't mind picking her up tonight. Cragen told them a few hours ago that once they'd written up their reports, they could leave for the day since there wasn't much else to go on, but she was still sifting through some of Angela's things that they'd collected from her apartment. She felt like everywhere they'd turned today, there was nothing but dead ends and she had a feeling that this box of receipts and bills would give her the same outcome.

Munch had found someone in the system with the name of Brendan Harris, who fit the description and age range they were looking for, and he apparently had a history of violence. He was a perfect suspect except for the fact that he was nowhere to be found. He hadn't shown up for work that day and nobody seemed to know where he'd gone or when he'd be back. They'd spent most of the day, after talking with Melinda, trying to figure out where they might be able to find this guy but they came up with nothing every time, just like they did with the evidence.

They'd found the murder weapon in her apartment but it had no prints or traces of blood. After the perp had knocked her out and kicked her in the head a few times, he'd slit her throat with one of the kitchen knives but it had been washed too, like everything else in her apartment. She had no traces of blood or skin under her nails either, which meant that he'd gotten her unconscious before she'd had the opportunity to fight back. They were still waiting for the tox screen to come back but there was no evidence of an injection site so they all had a feeling it would come up clean. They were coming up empty handed every time and with the boyfriend still missing, it looked like this was going to be more difficult than originally estimated.

Just as she was reluctantly piling some of the useless papers back into the box that she'd pulled them from, she heard footsteps coming closer. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Mark coming through the door with a grin on his face. He was dressed down, comfortably, and it wasn't until she saw two small eyes poke out from behind his leg, that she noticed the small girl with loose, blonde curls trailing behind him. Her tiny hand clutched the left leg of his sweat pants as she followed him through the vast world that was the station house. Olivia laughed slightly when he noticed how closely she had been tailing him.

Kneeling down beside her, he glanced over at Olivia who was observing the pair with twinkling eyes, and then back to the small girl. "Hey, Heather-feather," he called her affectionately. "I've got an idea." Her big, hazel eyes looked at him with question as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Why don't you go give Liv a big hug?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows animatedly in an effort to tempt the child. Her eyes widened slightly at the thought, a silly smile accenting her blushing, rosy cheeks, as she bashfully peeked over at the dark haired woman. She gave her father a questioning look, as if to ask if he was sure, but he just nodded and patted her back encouragingly. "Go ahead," he said, pushing her lightly before she broke into a full-on sprint towards her.

Olivia merely opened her arms to greet the lively, bright eyed, little girl into her arms. She knew Mark's daughter was always a little shy of her at first, but as soon as she was certain it was safe, she always latched on to Olivia as if they were joined at the hip. Frankly, it surprised Olivia each and every time, knowing how much his daughter talked about her parents getting back together. But she supposed at that age, children didn't make the connection that one could affect the other – that if her mom and dad got back together, she probably wouldn't see Olivia anymore. Nonetheless, she was glad that the small girl had taken a liking to her; it made things so much easier.

She let out a huff of air as the two collided, and scooped her up into her lap. She laughed as the girl squeezed her, giggling away. Finally, pulling back from her tight grip, she looked at her with a smile. "Heather-Anne, you're still awake? What's daddy doing, letting you stay up so late?"

"He said I could!" she squealed in between fits of laughter as Olivia tickled her sides a little. She didn't get to see Heather-Anne very often since she only stayed with Mark every other weekend, and although she was glad to see her, she was also extremely surprised – Mark always told her when he had his daughter for the weekend. She just smiled at her tiny wrinkled nose and small frame shaking with giggles before glancing over at Mark, who was playing the dutiful part of doting father as he observed the scene.

He couldn't be happier than when he saw the two most important girls in his life, together in the same room. It caused his heart to implode with surges adoration every time. When he had first told Olivia that he wanted her to meet his daughter, he could instantaneously feel that she was tentative about the idea. From the time that he had spent with Olivia, he could tell that this was going to be a big step for her and he could feel that she was tentative about the idea, but he assured her it would be fine. Truthfully, though, he thought that he might be more nervous than she was – he wanted to be certain that if he chose to expose his daughter to a new woman so shortly after the divorce, it would be the right woman. He could easily see now that it had been.

Candidly, he hadn't meant to fall for her, he hadn't even meant to stay long at that party where they'd met. Dan, a good friend of his, had decided to take him out one night and hit the bars – just to cheer him up since he was still sulking over the split. There was just one catch though, they'd have to stop first and make an appearance at one of his old, law school pal's birthday-get-together. He'd promised her that he would stop by, but they would only stay for a minute or two, Dan guaranteed him. Hesitantly, he had agreed but was slightly anxious about it for some reason, and it wasn't until they arrived, that his nerves began to ease. It was then, that he saw her. The tall, dark haired woman, talking to some older man in sunglasses. He couldn't keep his eyes off her, not even for a second, and he was worried that he'd come across as rude for so blatantly staring…but he just couldn't help it. She was beautiful. And she was looking back.

No, even after that, he hadn't meant to fall for her. He assumed that she would be the woman in between – she would help him get back into the swing of things, nothing serious. She was attractive, fun, seemed to want the same things as he did…It was a shock to both of them when they realized just how much they actually enjoyed each other's company.

"Sorry that I didn't mention she would be with me, earlier," he said referring to their conversation in the car. "Jackie dropped her off at around 5 unexpectedly, said she had to go out of town or something, I don't know. But when I told Heather that I was going to go pick you up later, I promised her we could have 'Sleepover at Liv's' if she was good," he said with a laugh as Heather-Anne gave a firm nod of affirmation, her curled, blonde ends, bouncing slightly. "I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is," Olivia said smiling back at the six year old in her lap who was now playing with her necklace. "We'll have lots of fun, won't we?"

"Yep," she said distantly, still mesmerized by the gold chain hanging from Olivia's neck.

"You're sure you're not too tired," she asked her skeptically, when she gave a big yawn, but she shook her head adamantly. "Alright, if you're sure," she said, giving her a knowing smile. "Did you bring Peter?" Olivia was, of course, speaking of the grey, stuffed cat that she knew Heather-Anne took everywhere.

"Uh huh!" she said, suddenly full of energy again. "He's in the car, come on let's go!" She hopped down from Olivia's lap, grabbing her hand in hers. As she began to run for the door, Olivia had to try and loosen her hand from Heather's tiny grasp.

"Hold on, sweetie, hold on," she said leading her back over to the desk. "Just let me get my keys first, and then we can go, k?" She quickly grabbed her jacket, keys, and bag before turning back to the all too eager girl, waiting patiently. "Alright," she signaling that all was a go, and they were off again, the bouncing six year old dragging Olivia behind her.

As she was being hauled through the doors of the one-six, she looked over at Mark with a marveled expression. He returned the look before quickly capturing her lips with his.

"Hey."

"Hey," she barely got out before she was pulled off once more, laughing and giving him an apologetic look.

"Heather, are you forgetting someone? Remember, good, ol' dad? Wait up!"

**Benson Residence**

**Friday, 10:05 pm**

"There you go," Olivia said softly, settling Heather-Anne into a comfy pile of blankets on the couch. She was already half asleep when they'd walked through the door and Olivia couldn't help but admire her childish spurts of energy and then lulls drowsiness at the drop of a dime. She watched Heather's eyes droop shut into a lazy haze as she cuddled the grey cat nested in her small arms. As she witnessed this, a small pang tugged at her heart and her eyes suddenly burned with a flash of tears, but at the realization of what this could lead to, she quickly put the ambuscading moisture at bay before it could be noticed. His little girl was just so beautiful… What she wouldn't give to experience motherhood, but she knew it wasn't a possibility so why put herself through these emotions by taking the thought any further? _Technically_ it was a possibility but in _reality_, she knew that she was, most likely, not going to end up having children. She was getting older, she was with someone who already had a child, and probably didn't want another one – not that she should even be _thinking_ about having children with Mark. She was getting way too far ahead of herself.

As she was pushing these thoughts from her mind, she felt a warm hand place itself on her shoulder, gently rubbing her tense muscles. She titled her face to the side and met his amorous gaze. "Rough day?" he asked softly.

She exhaled deeply before saying in the same quiet tone, "Yeah, I guess you could say that." A small smile flickered across her face, and she kissed him briefly, before making her way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He followed and watched her retrieve a glass from one of the cabinets and then fill it at the sink.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked her placidly, walking towards her.

She turned around to face him, back to the sink, and shrugged it off. "Not really, just partner stuff…" she sighed as he ran his hands therapeutically up and down her arms. "Nothing that won't eventually work itself out." She lifted her eyes to meet his and found a silly grin playing on his mouth. Feeling herself blush for no reason, she questioned his stare. "What?"

"You're just…so good with her," he said referring to his daughter, bringing a hand to her face to move a piece of hair – in fact, just an excuse to touch her. He really can't get over it, she's just too beautiful for words.

Her eyes shift their gaze to his mouth, what did she ever do to get so lucky? "Thanks," she whispers softly before his lips lightly brush hers. She smiles, knowing that he's teasing her, and immediately recaptures his lips, firmly in hers. She can feel his strong hands move gradually down to her waist as their kiss becomes more passionate. Letting one of her hands rest on his chest, and the other at the base of his neck, she pushes her body against his, feeling the counter pressing into the small of her back. Finally, breaking away for air, he lets his head fall idly next to hers, placing lazy kisses along the side of her ear and jaw line.

"You ready?" he asks her breathlessly. She had seen this coming but couldn't bear to break away. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to indulge in the feeling of his lips moving slowly against her skin, desperately having to will herself not to comply with him.

"No, baby, not while your daughter's here," she says catching her breath, but her words seem to have no affect on him. He just moves back to her mouth, attempting to persuade her with his eager lips. He was doing a damn good job too.

"You saw her," he says in between kisses. "She's already asleep."

"I know…" she said, knowing he wasn't going to give up easily. "But I can't… Not while she's just sleeping out here on the couch." Once again, as if completely deaf to her words, he continued to kiss her, this time bring his fingertips to the side of her face and lightly running them down her neck and through hair, barely making contact but just enough so that she shivered beneath his touch. He knew it was something she couldn't resist, and he could feel the heat radiate through her body as her hair stood on end. He wasn't about to make this easy for her.

Arching her back, she almost caved into temptation then and there, but thoughts of his little girl, innocently laying just a few feet away simply wouldn't leave her mind. She couldn't let this go any further as she was already beginning to feel the sensible parts of herself drift away. "Mark…" she softly moaned, pleading with him to stop before she lost control of her ability to say no. "You've gotta stop babe."

Knowing that he was fighting a losing battle, he heaved a sigh, resting his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes. "You're really not going to change your mind are you?"

"No," she said quietly, her voice filled with a simplistic regret. It's not like she didn't want to! It was just the thought of his daughter waking up in the middle of the night that bothered her. "Sorry, it's just…"

"I know, I know," he said running both of his hand down his face. He looked at her for a second before placing a hand on the counter and leaning on it. "But hey," he said with an idea that just might convince her. "What do you think married couples do?"

She laughed. "We're not married," she said walking away and heading towards her bedroom.

"So? It's the same principle."

She turned around, half way down the hall, and looked him in the eye knowingly. "No it's not, and you know it."

"You're really going to have to explain this one to me," he said, having no idea what she was talking about. "Married couples, who have children in their house, have sex all the time," he explained as she rolled her eyes and continued toward her bedroom with him following closely behind. "And now, just because we're not married, and there's a child in the house, we can't?"

She closed the door behind him and answered. "Yep."

"What?"

"Listen," she said trying to talk to him sensibly. "You've just gone through a divorce and your daughter is young. She still thinks you and Jackie are going to get back together for Christ's sake," she explained. "This whole thing is difficult enough for her already, and I don't want her to ever have to feel uncomfortable here."

"But, Liv," he whined as she walked toward her drawers. "She sleeps like a log. She'd never even know!"

"I don't care," she said laughing at his determination.

Groaning he fell back on to her bed. "And now I have to watch you change?!" he asked incredulously. "Think of what you're doing to me here!"

She continued to laugh. "Would it possibly help you if I wore baggier clothes or something?" she asked, pulling off her jeans and throwing them in a pile on the side of her dresser.

"No," he moaned, looking at the ceiling with his arms still sprawled out and his knees hanging over the edge. "You always look sexy – damn you."

"What are you, 15?"

"Yes," he said childishly.

She chose to ignore his juvenile remark, and walked over to his pathetic form, laid out on her bed, wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, that fell about mid-thigh, over her underwear. Seductively, she crawled on top of him and playfully pushed his short hair away from his face.

"Are you just _trying_ to make me have sex with you now?" he asked her, unclenching his eyes only to find her on top of him in practically nothing.

She grinned impishly. "No."

"Well you're headed down that road again," he warned her, obviously in pain. "So I suggest if you don't want me touching you, you better just lay off there, partner…"

"Who says I don't want you touching me?" she asked, her grin growing wider.

Mark stared at her, wide eyed, and just threw his head back, closing his eyes once more in attempt to block out the fact that his girlfriend was straddling him but didn't want to have sex. Who does that?! He let out a deep sigh of frustrated confusion. "What do you want from me woman?!"

She grabbed his shirt and rolled over, pulling him on top of her. Still griping his shirt, she pulled him closer and kissed him passionately. In his utter confusion, he didn't object but met her kiss with equal force until, at last, she broke for air and smiled wickedly. "Absolutely nothing," she said breathlessly, and stood up, walking towards the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.

Leaving him slightly winded, dazed and confused, he sighed, an exasperatingly simple, "God, I love you."

He fell back on her slightly rumpled comforter and thankfully, did not see her stomach drop at his words. She rarely ever told men that, and she even more rarely ever let them in to the point where she actually meant it. She paused, waiting for panic to spread through her veins and overcome her but surprisingly, that's not the emotion she was met with. Slowly, she was encompassed by what felt like a compulsion – a rightness – that in turn, made her _want_ to say it back. Did that mean she was in love though? In the few relationships where she did let those three, little words slip from her mouth, she'd felt terrible afterwards, perhaps even guilty. She didn't want to feel that way with Mark…she didn't want to screw this up. She couldn't say that she wished he hadn't said it, but she also couldn't identify with the sudden weight on her chest. It wasn't a pressure to go out there and say it back, it was more like a need with an impulsive nature, to go out there and say it back. What the hell was she going to do?! She didn't know… All she knew was that the weight kept building.

Once she was finished in the bathroom, she reentered her bedroom to find Mark already under the covers waiting for her. She noticed his sweatpants and t-shirt discarded in a neat pile next to her bed. When he heard the door open, he opened his eyes and looked over to her with a sleepy smile on his face, which she returned as she climbed into bed, and turned off the light. She leaned into his embrace as he wrapped his arm around her stomach and pulled her back closer against his chest.

"Night, Liv," he said softly as they both relaxed into her soft bedding.

"Night…" she whispered and they fell silent.

Still unable to ease her restless thoughts, she let out a soft, "Mark…?"

"Hm?" he asked drowsily and her heart raced.

"I love you, too," she said quietly and felt him smile in her neck. Gently tightening his grip on her, he place a tender kiss on her earlobe before letting himself drift off once more. The weight was lifted, and all she could do was smile.

_A/N: Oh goodness! Liv's found love! How swell! Now, I need to know how the chapter felt for you all. I REALLY need to know. I didn't want it to be too corny or get OOC but I don't know have anyone telling me when it gets that way so here's your chance and I'll see what I can do in the upcoming chapters. Tell me what you like, what kind of scenes you want to see and I'll try to work more of that in. But in order to do so, you must **REVIEW**. Now, do yo' thang :) _


	5. Something Like Emotion

**A/N:** Ah! It's been too long! I'm sorry but this chapter totally kicked my butt. I'm still not happy with it :( For some reason it seemed so much smoother in my mind and I couldn't find a place for the chapter to stop, & I just dont know... Normally, I would spend more time on it but I don't like going this long with out updating so here it goes. Still unedited by a fresh pair of eyes so I'm sure - especially in the last part - there will be some grammatical errors so I'm sorry!

P.S. (pre-script haha) I was shocked by the responce the last chapter got out of you guys! & I especially need your reviews now that I'm so unsure about how this chapter worked out. So I need you all to tell me! ** REVIEW**! please. haha

**Disclaimer:** Elliot + Olivia Hot Steamy Make-Out Scene, right? From what I see, Dick Wolf disagrees. So I guess I don't own them... shucks.

**Chapter 5: Something Like Emotion**

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Waiting as my heart drops

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**Benson Residence**

**Saturday, 7:10 am**

In her vague haze of sleep, Olivia only just barely registered the heavy form of endless energy, jumping and falling on her bed. Distantly, she could hear the sounds of something resembling a "Wake up! Wake up!" in between bounces. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, not recognizing the weight causing the fluctuation in her mattress. Lifting her head up, she squinted while her eyes adjusted to the light, trying to focus on what the disturbance was. All she was met with, was a pair of bright hazel eyes, staring into her own.

"Hi."

One would think that after staying up until 10 o'clock at night, a six year old would easily be able to sleep in until, at least, 8 the next morning. But no. No, indeed. Not this six year old. Not this child with her delicate, golden locks and footy pajamas. No. She liked not sleeping. Had Olivia actually been given the chance to wake up first, she might have seen that they'd had the chance to get plenty of sleep, but sadly, that was not the case.

"Hey honey," came her drowsy voice in response, still not fully comprehending Heather-Anne's undying energy, or what she was doing jumping on her bed so early in the morning.

Collapsing back onto her pillow, she stretched out her legs momentarily before looking over, just in time, to see Heather's small body plummet into Mark's stomach. He let out a long "Umph" and she giggled away as if he were the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice audibly strained from the blow he'd just received to the gut.

"It's time to get up!" She exclaimed sweetly, picking herself back up and making it difficult to be even a little agitated.

But before she got the chance to resume her newly found pleasure of leaping around the bed, he pulled her back down and entered them both into a severe tickle war. Squirming about, she finally asked him to stop and he naturally complied.

"Why don't you go get dressed and brush your teeth," he suggested and she willingly acquiesced, leaving the room to go find her overnight bag.

Just as she exited the room, he fell back into his original sleeping position and looked over to meet Olivia's sleepy gaze. "Morning," she said with a lazy smile, shifting herself closer to him.

"Morning," he returned, encircling her waist and kissing her on the forehead. Then turning onto his stomach, with a tired groan, he let his body go limp as he exhaled face down into the pillow. She laughed at their sloth-like inability to wake when he shifted his head sideways to look at her. He looked slightly adorable with his cheek smushed onto her pillow and his eyelids drooping slightly. A small smile crept onto her face as he looked at her, and his eyes began to narrow. "Now why is it that _you_," he said, stressing his words in a lethargic tone. "Get to wake up beautiful every morning, while the rest of the world gets to go on looking like crap?"

Her face did not change expression but became somewhat methodical as she stared into his eyes. "I don't think I can be with you anymore," she said after a few seconds, matter-of-factly. Still lying on her pillow, he raised an eyebrow, causing his face to contort even more and she could hardly keep herself from laughing at his bewildered countenance. "You lie too well."

"You know, you call yourself a detective but I'm starting to think that your detecting skills aren't so accurate after all," he deadpanned as she rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which," he said more seriously and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What time do you need me to drive you in to-"

"Oh _shit…_" she hissed, suddenly wide awake as she grabbed her watch from the night stand, pushing the hair from her face. She heaved a sigh of relief when she realized that she hadn't overslept and still had about 30 minutes to get ready for work. "Um, we should probably leave by quarter till 8," she muttered and he nodded in agreement before sitting up as well.

"Do you know when you're getting off?" he asked, leaning his forehead into the side of her neck and kissing her exposed shoulder.

"Well, the best lead in our case right now has masterfully disappeared so we're doing a stakeout at his apartment…" she said as thoughts of spending the day locked with Elliot in a car entered her mind. "But if he doesn't show up by 3, then Munch and Fin will probably take over," she explained. "But whenever we do get him, we'll have to bring him in for questioning so…I really don't know."

"Alright, whenever you get off, just give me a call. Maybe you can stop by afterwards or something," he suggested.

"Sounds good," she agreed with a yawn.

**16****th**** Precinct: Squad Room**

**Saturday, 7:59 am**

Olivia was in a particularly good mood this morning as she waltzed into the squad room, coffee in hand for everyone – even Elliot, which truthfully, was more for the sake of being polite than out of the forgiving kindness in her heart, but who cared?

Things had been a little tense around the precinct lately – not just with her and Elliot – but with the whole team. It had been a while since they were all civilly genial with each other, not like in the old days when everyone would go out for drinks after a rough day, or when considerable measures were taken to ensure that everyone was getting on alright when they dealt with a particularly demanding case. It just wasn't the same. Over the years they'd grown close, more like friends than co-workers, and lately… she'd missed her friends.

"Morning," she greeted them affably with a smile, setting her things down. Getting Elliot out of the way first, she set the cup of steaming, dark liquid on his desk. She met his gaze momentarily, registering the shock in his intense blue eyes, as he muttered a "Thanks." Giving him a small smile and a nod in response, she then moved on to Munch and Fin, leaving traces of questions unanswered to linger in his mind.

"Well, Surprise Surprise," Munch commented on her unexpected benevolence, accepting the gift with a stunned expression as well. "You're in an awfully good mood this morning, I see."

"You finally get a new partner or somethin'?" Fin asked her sarcastically, glancing over at Elliot who fixed him with a glare and a mock smile of pleasantry. She decided against answering his question, taking note that her partner wasn't exactly humored by the dig.

"Since when am I not allowed to bring in coffee for everyone _just because_?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Fin. She knew it had been a while but it wasn't as if she'd solved world hunger.

"Just nice to see ya smilin' Liv," he told her honestly. It was nice to see everyone in a good mood this morning. Everyone had been so uptight lately that sometimes he actually forgot that he generally liked the people he worked with.

"You might want to take notes over there Tutuola," Munch said, pointing his yellow pencil at Olivia while Fin pursed his lips with a repugnant air.

"Man, you the last one to be talkin…"

They all bantered back and forth for a few minutes before falling back into their previous activities of preparing for the day. Elliot sat quietly at his desk now in a pensive state of mind as he watched her sit down. She did not look his way, but merely toyed with the computer – turning it on, waiting for it to load, etc, her thoughts clearly miles away from him. He gave an emotional hark of irony at the thought since his thoughts wouldn't leave her alone, not for a moment.

All he could concentrate on was her 'good mood' this morning. The way she came walking into the precinct, bringing everyone coffee, readily chatting…Since when did that happen? Not that he minded. On a certain level, he was even glad. It was just the constant question of why she was so happy that bothered him. He pondered for a moment, keeping his eyes focused on her engrossed face before he mentally scoffed at his own question. He knew why she was all smiles today, and it sure had nothing to do with him. It was undoubtedly this other man in her life, this _Mark_ – he would never get used to that name.

Finally taking note that he was clenching his jaw with tremendous force, he relaxed and shifted his focus downward at the empty desk before him. What were they doing today?

"Are you ready?" he heard her voice tear him from his blank thoughts, and it instantly flooded back to him. Angela Simmons. Rape Homicide. Dancer. Ex boyfriend. Brendan Harris. Missing. Stakeout. Okay.

**Sedan**

**Saturday, 11:20 am**

They had been sitting across the street from Brendan Harris' apartment building for a few hours now and he still hadn't shown up. She'd already gone through her hot Styrofoam cup of tea – against her better judgment and the advice of her partner to pace herself. When he saw that she'd finished so quickly, he teased her, knowing that she'd have to go to the restroom soon and they still had 4 hours to go. It was among the several conversations they'd had since the waiting began, including relevant topics concerning the case and vague predictions about the weather. But now, they sat in a semi-comfortable silence as the gray clouds above began to grow dark, masking the city in an ominous cloak and making it seem much later than it actually was. Olivia sighed, hoping that the rain would hold off because she knew that the second it unleashed itself, she'd have to go to the bathroom.

Elliot's eyes scanned the area for what must have been the hundredth time, and he still wasn't taking it in. He was glad that he and Olivia had had a seemingly decent morning in each other's company, although now that the conversation had ceased, his thoughts began gnawing away at him once more.

He wanted things to be okay with them, and even though they seemed to be, he wouldn't allow himself to think that they were back to being 'alright' so quickly, without actually hearing it from her mouth. This could just as easily be her way of getting through the day without emotionally exploding her harbored rage all over him. He hoped that it wasn't, he hoped to God that his condescending remarks from yesterday were forgiven… But how could he know? He wasn't about to ask her. No, that would probably only make things worse. All he could do at the moment was watch for Brendan, and hope that she had truly forgiven him, even if he didn't deserve it.

"You were right, you know," he suddenly heard her quiet voice. Looking over, he saw that she'd been watching him, and even though he had no idea what she was talking about, he sensed that she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.

"About what?" he asked genuinely confused, both by her statement and her unforeseen sincerity.

She fought to keep her eyes locked with his, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy to admit, especially to her beautiful, arrogant, ass-hole of a partner. "About what you said yesterday," she said in the same gentle, honest tone, before finally breaking his gaze and staring down at her hands. She smiled slightly and tilted her head to look at him again. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you."

The sedan was silent. He couldn't fully process what she was saying to him. She was _sorry_? Sorry that she didn't tell him. She was sorry that she didn't tell him about Mark. Was she admitting it? Was she saying that she really had tried to hide it? Did that mean that she really didn't trust him? But she was sorry… And he was right? Right for being a jack-ass? Nothing made sense. Did this mean that she understood how much he cared about her? How much he wanted to stay in her life? How much he wanted to be there for her? Several emotions began to assault his senses – guilt, relief, respect, disappointment, hurt, anger, joy. He didn't know how he was going to string a coherent thought together, let alone a sentence.

Blankly, he stared at an insignificant spot on her knee, nodding his head distantly, taking it all in, unaware of the appropriate thing to say. And while his other thoughts collected, preparing to go through analyzation, he let the one question that he'd wanted to know for so long, surface. "How long?"

He let himself drift back to present as he moved his unfocused view of her knee, back to her eyes. At first, he wasn't sure if she would understand his question, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he had a feeling that she knew exactly what he wanted to know.

"Um," came her unsteady voice, slightly shaking when she stared back at her hands. For some reason they were oddly fascinating at the moment. "About…4 months," she finally said, more firmly this time.

His eyes widened somewhat as he retreated, once more into his distant thoughts, and leaned back into his seat. 4 months? 4 months she'd been seeing someone… and he hadn't known. He'd had no idea. He hadn't noticed anything, she'd given him no indication. How in the world had he missed something like that? Had she ever planned on telling him? Would he have ever known if he hadn't stopped by on Thursday? Would she be telling him now? Would they still be having this conversation? Did he even know her at all? He never saw it coming… all that time.

She finally tore herself away from her hands and looked at him. To an extent, she was surprised, surprised by the hurt in his eyes – she could feel it even if he wasn't looking at her. She didn't understand how she could have caused this, how her actions had affected him in this way. After all, he was the one with the wife and 5 children. He was the one who left her emotionally drained and bemused every time. No, she didn't understand it, but she recognized it. It was the same hurt, the same disappointment, that she'd experienced the day he told her Kathy was pregnant. It wasn't something you couldn't pinpoint, let alone understand, merely an overwhelming feeling of disillusion.

"Why?" was the only thing he could think to ask her, and it came out low, almost in a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, turning his head to look at her. The muscles in his face were tensed and his eyes were narrowed slightly. He didn't want her to see the emotions swimming through him right now, he didn't want to convey how much he cared when she clearly didn't…

"I didn't know how," she told him honestly.

He bore into her eyes with his own for a very long time, looking for something, something that would allow all of this to make sense for him. He could feel her large brown eyes pleading with him, knowing that if he just dug below the surface, he would understand. She was genuine, that much he knew, and therefore, if the right time had allowed itself – she would have told him, he knew she would've. At least that's what her eyes were telling him, and in such a state of mental chaos, all he could do was believe her.

Nodding slowly once more, in comprehension, he allowed a small, semi-forced smile to creep across his features, hoping that she wouldn't see straight through him. "As long as you're happy, Liv, that's all I care about…"

Her lip tried to curve slightly but it was more like a twitch as she let herself look away. "Thanks…" she said quietly, unsure of where any of this left them.

"But you could've mentioned _something_," he said told her teasingly with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He couldn't let himself dwell on this, not anymore, and certainly not right now. What better way to get things back to normal that to taunt her?

She looked over, only to be met with his playful grin that contagiously infected her smile as well, and was filled with relief. Sighing, she relaxed a little, hoping that this was the end of it – at least for a little while. "So, we're okay then?"

"Yeah," he said nodding. That was truly all he cared about – that they were okay, that at the end of the day, she trusted him to be there for her and vice versa. "So, when do I get to meet this guy anyway?"

She laughed a little, thinking that that probably wasn't the best idea. Elliot was incredibly protective – obviously, and she'd never really introduced him to anyone she was seeing before. How could she be sure that he wouldn't do anything stupid? But then again, trying to keep Mark away from him would only make things worse…She was getting the feeling either way, she was going to lose out, and what fun was playing a game where you know you can't win? Not that this was a game, but it was the same idea…

"Uh, well, whenever you want to I guess," she said.

"Oh, so that's how you're going to play it, huh?" he said scanning over the area again. Nothing had changed. And there was still no sign of him.

She blushed slightly, knowing that she'd been caught trying to tip toe around it, but seriously, how could you blame her? Sighing, she surrendered. "Sometimes, he picks me up after work."

"Oh good," he said teasingly, and glanced over at her grimacing face. "It'll be fine," he assured her all too eagerly. "Just need to let this guy know what he's coming up against when he screws up."

"If," she corrected him, knowing what he was trying to do and redirected her gaze out of the window, looking for anyone that matched Harris' description. "But I doubt it," she mumbled grumpily under her breath so he wouldn't hear her, and continued to search the surrounding area.

"Hm," he let out a smug, muffled laugh to himself. Correcting her correction would undoubtedly bring on trouble, and he was in no position to start that again, so he kept quiet. _No_, he thought to himself, _Defiantly 'when.'_

**Knowles Residence**

**Saturday, 8:23 pm**

The dark room, filled with the ghostly, blue glow of the television set, created a laid back atmosphere as the three watched Heather-Anne's new favorite animated film. On the couch, Olivia was seated comfortably in Mark's embrace, leaning her back against his chest while aimlessly stroking his leg. Feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing shift into sync with her own, she'd never felt more at home – other than at the precinct, of course. Looking over, she saw that Heather-Anne was attentively staring, wide eyed at the luminescent box in a squashy bean bag chair with Peter devotedly by her side.

She took a glance at her watch and knew that she would have to leave soon for her second shift of the stake-out, which, like a looming cloud, hung over her absolute contentment. Having no desire to move whatsoever, she wished that the guy would just show up already. But even then, she'd have to go in for questioning so either way, she'd have to get up eventually.

"Thirsty?" he asked her softly, not wanting to disturb Heather's movie. "Dan sent over a new bottle of wine this morning if you're interested..."

She thought for a moment, taking note of the uneasy feeling curling throughout her abdomen and the hazy fog of fatigue already weighing on the back of her eyelids. Even though she was more comfortable than she had been in days, she still wasn't feeling entirely well, and combined with the fact that she'd have to be completely alert for the next six and a half hours, she knew if she consumed anything more - especially alcohol - it could jeopardize her ability to do the job. And even though it took more than a glass of wine to intoxicate her, she didn't need Elliot to think that she couldn't handle herself, not when things were just getting back to normal - again.

"I'm alright," she told him. "Thanks though."

He nodded, rubbing her shoulder a little before getting up and heading to the kitchen. He looked back over his shoulder, seeing Olivia's head slump into the cushions of the couch while Heather-Anne sank farther into her squashy chair. If someone had been witness, they would have noticed that it suddenly became impossible to distinguish the reflective glint of the TV from the illuminating glow in his eyes, undoubtedly a direct result of the imminent happiness that clung to his heart. It was a rarity when he had both his daughter and his girlfriend together for the night, and the last two days made him think that even after everything, he might just be okay. Although he and his, now ex, wife hadn't been in each other's good graces for years, it still tore him apart when she asked for the divorce. He cared about his daughter more than anything on the face of the earth and just knew that she was too young, and wouldn't understand. The thought of her growing up in a broken home, confused about why he and her mother didn't live together in the same house anymore, sometimes deprived him of sleep at night. Olivia helped to ease his distress in ways he never thought possible, and he couldn't be more grateful.

Taking a glass from one of the cupboards, he filled it with water at the sink and began walking back into the living room when the doorbell rang. He saw Olivia lift her heavy head, shifting from her position slightly, and give him a questioning look as if to ask if he'd been expecting someone. He returned her puzzled look with one of his own, and turned on the light momentarily so that he could see, muttering a few choice words about the hour and having to answer the door at this time of night under his breath.

When he approached the entrance to his apartment, merely a few, feet away from where he'd just been comfortably sitting minutes ago, he looked through the fish-eye viewer and was almost positive that his blood temperature dropped a few degrees. He could practically feel his stomach knotting itself five times over, and wondered how he was supposed to handle this situation. What the hell was she even doing here?! Normally he was tolerant when she stopped by, but he just wasn't in the mood to deal with her, not tonight when everything had been so perfect, so relaxed. And along with the fact that she hadn't called, her presence only ticked him off more. Taking a step back so that he could collect himself, while sliding a hand roughly down the side of his face, he wondered what she could possibly want at this hour. Shaking his head, he opened the door just enough so he could see her on the other side – a slender, blonde haired woman, with a holier-than-thou expression permanently plastered across her face.

"Jackie, what're you doing here?" he asked in a hushed tone of voice, attempting to mask the conversation from Olivia and Heather-Anne, although failing to mask his irritation concerning her unexpected visit.

She furrowed her brow and stepped back in a defensive manner. "I came to pick up my daughter," she said ridiculously as if he were asking her why 2 + 2 4.

He studied her expression and couldn't believe it. She made him feel like he was completely insane and yet she was the one who showed up at 8:30 at night, no phone call, nothing, and just expected him to give her Heather-Anne. She was supposed to be out of town anyway! Not that she'd even bothered to tell him when she was getting back, or where she was going. "I thought you were out of town?"

"I was," she said with a scowl at his need to make things difficult. "And now I'm not. Where is she?" she asked, suspiciously trying to see around the door that was half closed.

With a sigh, he grabbed the side of the doorframe, internally calming himself down. He needed to just take a deep breath and realize that the only way to deal with her hostility was to talk to her rationally. Hopefully, she would get an idea of how unreasonable she sounded, coming to his place and demanding their daughter when she should have been in bed already. "Listen," he said calmly. "It's almost 8:30 and Heather's half asleep anyway, why don't you just let me drop her off at your place in the morning?"

"No," she said, shocked that he would even suggest such an inconvenient plan of action. "You don't think I have things to do tomorrow morning? No, I came to pick her up _now_, so I'm taking her home _now_." Her voice was starting to rise in volume and he just knew that this wasn't going to end peacefully.

"Jackie-" he began in protest, but she was already pushing past him and inside.

As she gave the apartment a quick onceover, her eyes immediately landed on Olivia who was now sitting at the end of the couch, vigilantly after hearing snippets of the conversation. Even with the Marks attempt to shield them from the sudden visitor, she could easily tell by the way he was speaking, that it was his ex wife. God only knew how awkward the situation could get now.

And what could she do about it? Jackie was obviously upset, she could hear her practically screaming in the hallway, and now she was just standing there, looking her over. Normally Olivia wouldn't have just sat there, she would've at least gotten up, perhaps introduced herself, but the look she was receiving from her now, told her that that was not a sound thing to do. In fact, it made her so uncomfortable that she could feel herself grow even hotter than she'd been. God, if looks could only say 'oh-look-who-just-walked-off-the-corner!' Averting her eyes, she was practically squirming beneath her scrutinizing stare.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a laugh, turning around to face her ex husband. "So this is why you didn't want me to pick her up tonight?" Motioning towards the uneasy brunette and then crossing her arms, she wore a satisfied smile infused with spite, as if she knew exactly what his game was. Mark looked at Olivia and then back to Jackie, completely befuddled. Along with his confusion, he was also wading through a pool of guilt – he never wanted to see Olivia put in this position and he couldn't help but feel completely at fault. He didn't have long to soak in his remorse though, because as soon as Jackie saw his puzzled expression, her face grew heated with anger. "You're already shacked up with some tramp and you're exposing my daughter to that kind of trash?!" she screamed as his eyes went wide. "Is that it Mark, huh? Didn't want me to find out that you were fucking your little bitch while Heather was here?"

Mark stood wide-eyed for a minute, half frozen over in shock while his fury fumed and blazed beneath his skin. He'd rarely heard her talk like that in the presence of others, and he could hardly believe the words he'd just heard fly out of her mouth – in front of Heather-Anne, in front of Olivia. Even through his overwhelming fury with Jackie, he could feel his bones cracking under the weight of his guilt now. He should have stopped it. He should have stopped her. The matter of how he should have done it would be resolved later, all he knew was that she didn't deserve that.

Looking at his ex, he had to step back. His knuckles began turning white as gripped the side of a nearby table, almost as if in some vain attempt to transfer his insular rage into its smooth finish. His head was throbbing now, and he could feel himself becoming dangerously close to boiling over with every passing second. But no matter how incredulously offensive she was being, he couldn't loose it, not now, not in front of them.

"Get out."

"Not until I have Heather-Anne."

He flung the door open with incredible force and looked down at the floor, using every ounce of self-control he contained in order to restrain himself from throwing his fist into the wall. "I'll drop her off in the morning, leave."

"Mommy!" Suddenly, the small six year old who had previously been so engrossed in her film, was now aware that her mother was present and went instantly running to her side, oblivious to the ruthless tension floating through the room, not to mention all hell breaking loose.

"Hey sweetie," she said, petting her hair as Heather-Anne clung to her thigh, and then refocused her attention upon the irate man before her. "I'm taking her home Mark, and next time I drop her off, if I drop her off, you sure as hell better not have any of your little sluts hanging around because I wont let you subject our daughter to your disgusting way of living."

"Don't go there, Jackie," he told her through grit teeth, shaking his head and glancing over at Olivia, who looked completely withdrawn. He knew all she wanted was to get a reaction out of him, get him angry, make him do things he'd regret, and he was tired of it. "Go home. I'm not going to have this conversation with you in front of Heather. You'll see her tomorrow."

She let out a cruel laugh. "If you think I'm going to let her stay here now that I know what kind of company you've been keeping, you're out of you're mind. You have something to say to me then say it now, otherwise we're gone."

"What part of not-in-front-of-our-daughter don't you understand?!"

"Then I guess you'll see me the weekend after next. That is," she said coldly. "If your two dollar whore isn't here."

She stood there, staring him down, gauging his reaction, and he almost couldn't take it anymore, he knew she just wouldn't stop. She wanted him to unleash his furry on her, she wanted solid confirmation that she'd gotten to him, to know that her words still affected him, and he knew that she wouldn't let it go until she got it. She'd keep trudging on, keep saying things, keep throwing degrading insults at her - at Olivia. Olivia, the most innocent party in all of this, she didn't deserve that. But he wouldn't allow himself to engage in a discussion that he knew would get ugly in front of his daughter. So he saw only one option that might save them. And even though he hated to do it, he saw no other way.

His eyes dragged over to her, and he saw her large brown eyes glazed over with a mixture of mangled emotions – shame, defense, denial, hurt, anger, disbelief, the list went on. He could only imagine what she was thinking right now. He could only hope that he hadn't ruined everything. "Liv," he said, voice laced with anguish. "I hate to do this to you, but would you mind…?" he asked looking down at his wide-eyed, observant daughter, studying the stitching on her mother's skirt.

Her gaze followed his and she immediately understood. "Yeah," she said quietly with only the slightest hesitation. "Sure." Standing up, she gave Heather-Anne a small smile, her heart aching for the tiny girl and all of the turmoil she would be forced to endure throughout the years to come. But as she approached her and when Heather realized she would be going with Olivia, suddenly, a hand came into view and firmly gripped onto the little girl, holding her back.

Olivia looked up from Heather-Anne, only to be met with her mother's threatening glare. "Don't you dare _touch_ my daughter."

Olivia's mouth hung open slightly, completely unaware of what to do or say. She let her eyes fall from the woman's piercing stare and involuntarily pressed her lips together while her head bobbed minutely up and down. "I, um…I think I'm going to go," she said looking over at Mark as his countenance sank into half horror, half panic. "I'll call you tomorrow," she reassured him quietly and grabbed her coat. Part of her felt bad for leaving this way, knowing that he was under stress and pressure to just make this all go away for her, but she truly didn't know how much more she could take. She didn't feel like herself, it wasn't like her to let unfounded insults get to her – she'd been called names before, on the job, off the job, in high school, in college. She knew how to brush things off, she dealt with it on a daily basis. But for some reason, she was emotional. It surprised her, it scared her. She was strong, and yet right now, she felt so weak, which only upset her more. She knew she had to leave. Before she did something to embarrass herself, not that she hadn't already been humiliated enough. "Excuse me," she said, stepping around the vengeful blonde standing by the door, and then moving down the hallway towards the stairs.

_A/N: So I think when you **REVIEW**, you should check the little Story Alert box, since I'm leaving for Japan on Aug 1st and will be gone for 2 whole weeks. Then 2 days after I get back, I go to Florida for 1 whole week. So during that time, I'm not sure when I'll get to write or post since I wont have the internet :( Don't be discouraged though! We're just only starting to scrape the surface of this story, so stay with me!! If this chapter totally sucked, do tell. If it was freaking awesome, I'd like to know. If you just read it, say something! haha BUT, if it did suck, I swear the next chapter's better - at least I think - so dont let that getcha down! Stay tuned :)_


	6. Something Like Defense

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait! It's been CRAZY! Hopefully this wont be my last Chapter before I leave, I've got the next one in the works as we speak, so cross your fingers and **REVIEW** :) haha I really swear, it makes me update faster. There's no better motivation! On another note: My Best Friend/Editor is back from Russian Camp! Woo hoo! That might also help with this whole updating cycle as well.

Random Note: So I went out to dinner the other night, and you know how in a lot of places they bring you the bread and then some kind of something to put on it. Well! This place brings you oil in a dish-plate, and it has seasonings and little _what have yous_ all up in it. NOW, is it _just me_, or does anyone else find it unbearably unnerving when someone takes a piece of their bread and drags it all over the little oil plate and back again?! Not just once, but like 8 times, and you're just like _Could you please stick to a single concentrated area on the plate_?! Oh my geez. I'm sorry but small things like this annoy the hell out of me. ugh! Anyway... on the story...

Random Note #2: OH MY GOD! So I was watching _Runaway Bride_ last night, and then who comes on screen in a tight, sexy 'Mountaineers Do It Against The Wall' T-Shirt? CHRIS MELONI! I know right?! I was so taken aback, and then my dad practically yelled, "It's Elliot!" It was great. But he totally ruined the movie for me. Why, you may ask. How could an extra gallon of sexy ruin an already fantastic movie? Well, you see, it is because I could never believe that any woman would leave HIM for any man - even if that man _is_ Richard Gere. I mean seriously. ??

Alright, this time we're REALLY on to the story...

**Disclaimer:** If I owned them, there would be a special SVU channel on t.v. Haha did anyone else catch that?_ Special S_.special_V.U._ Like ATM Machine. haha I crack me up...

**Chapter 6: Something Like Defense**

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Even if I knew my place

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**Mark Knowles' Apartment Building**

**Saturday, 8:30 pm**

Most likely due to his salary, Mark lived in a fairly impressive building – he was a plastic surgeon that worked specifically with burn victims and those with facial deformities, or sufferers of automobile accidents, etc. Olivia was always rather impressed with his work, and in a way, it connected them. They both saw disturbing visions every day, but kept going out of their need to help, to make the world a little bit better, whether it was serving justice or giving someone their life back.

But as Olivia walked down the several flights of stairs with haste, approaching the lobby, she didn't take in a pixel of her lavished surroundings. It was all she could do to will herself to think about something else, anything other than the feelings washing over her in waves, drowning her ability to keep herself together. Her heart was racing at the sheer panic that she felt concerning the estranged emotions vandalizing her state of mind. She couldn't keep them in check as they tore her apart, slashing through her muscles, wearing her down, so quickly, like frozen knives, their cold blades ripping away. She didn't know how she was going to survive the hours to come if she didn't pull herself together.

_Tramp, Whore, Slut, Trash…_ It wasn't the words that were carelessly flung at her that created this whirlwind of defeat, but rather the feeling of such intense inferiority that had nostalgically reawaken her insecurities. Sure, she liked to pretend that they didn't exist but she wasn't always completely naïve of their influence on her. And even if she hated to feel them lurking beneath the solid surface of her enduring strength, she could no longer ignore them, especially since they seemed to be devastatingly emerging all at once.

Feeling the burning rush of tears flood her tear ducts, all she wanted to do was scream, she was so incredibly angry with herself for reacting this way.

She needed to make this go away, she needed it to stop. How was she going to handle herself at work? There was, indeed, an extent to her acting capabilities, and although she prided herself on her ability to discretely hide her true emotions, she didn't know if she could this time. Not when she could feel her stomach being twisted into a balloon animal.

Suddenly, she felt herself being swung around, and for a moment, she honestly thought that she'd fainted since her vision was momentarily encompassed by darkness – probably because she was so lightheaded. But as the obscure black cloud began to dissipate, the view of an extremely distraught Mark came into her unhinged focus.

He pulled her closer, putting a hand on her heated face, and she was grateful for the momentary shock of cool relief. His expression changed though, as he studied her watery eyes, and vulnerable features attempt to steel themselves against his frazzled stare. He could tell that she was a little more than highly affected by the events that occurred just minutes ago, she could tell that he could tell. His eyes deepened with fear as she tried to mask the anguish exuding from her pores, and pick up the pieces of her dispersed self-respect that had fallen all over the floor.

"I'm so sorry," he told her gently, slouching down to meet her eyes when she lowered them to her shoes, ashamed at her own susceptibility. She shook her head slightly, knowing that he blamed himself for her affliction, and that was the last thing she wanted. She didn't need any more guilt on top of her angered turmoil. She felt him place a hand softly under her chin and lift her face to his once more. As he did so, she could no longer protest the few searing tears that begged for release, and slid shakily down her warm cheeks. Closing her eyes so he couldn't see the mortification that so openly resided there, she felt his thumb wipe the moisture away.

"Don't be, it's not your fault," she said, looking at the buttons on his shirt, and contorting her mouth in attempt to prevent more tears from escaping. "I'm fine," she lied with a small smile that echoed her dishonesty.

He smiled at her need to be strong but could easily see right through her, which was something quite foreign to him. He could only imagine how humiliated she must have been at her evident display of vulnerability, but he could not have found it more endearing yet painful at the same time.

"Yeah, because you sure look it," he said sarcastically, in an affectionate way, of course, that put a genuine smile on her face as he pushed her hair gently out of the way. She placed her hands on his as they rested on either side of her head, and knew that she wasn't fooling anyone, even if she had wanted to.

"I'm sorry," she said, leaning her forehead against his and closing her eyes, feeling his breath dance across her mouth as a few more tears escaped. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she admitted, her voice a mere whisper.

He could feel the wetness from her tears, dampen her soft skin as she leaned in to him, exhaling laboriously. Seeking some sort of needed confirmation, he couldn't help but bring his lips the last few centimeters closer to hers, barely touching, but it was all he needed. She did not contest his actions either, but rather sought the same fulfillment, needing to know that he was there for her when she was so despairingly at loss, and he was. He held her close and she absorbed his love for her, letting it seep through her veins like a numbing agent until she could no longer feel the confusion that tormented her so reproachfully. Clinging to him, she was afraid to let go, afraid that if she did, it would all come flooding back to her, and it did.

Abruptly, her phone began to ring, and reluctantly, she was forced to release her hold on him in order to answer it. Sighing heavily, she took it from her pocket and looked at the caller ID, seeing that it was from Elliot. For some reason at the sight of his name on the tiny screen, she felt a warmness spread through her chest and a sudden yearning - a yearning to see him, to talk to him, to make him understand, to make him fix her, just like he used to... but it was a hopeless thought, and she knew it. Things weren't like they used to be, she wasn't sure how much she could rely on him anymore. He'd failed her before, perhaps unknowingly, perhaps not, but regardless it remained true. And she didn't know if she could handle failure right now. Not when she was so candidly failing herself.

She drew a shaky breath, and answered, "Benson."

_"Hey, it's me,"_ she heard his voice on the other end, and backed away vagrantly.

"Hey."

_"You ready for round two?"_ Round two? Round two of what? But then she remembered the stakeout.

"Oh, uhm... Yeah, I'm ready," she replied, somewhat distracted - by what, she didn't know. "Why, are you?"

_"Yeah, I'm ready. I just wanted to know if you needed me to pick you up."_

She let out a long and thoughtful "Uh..." at his question before answering. "No, I can make it there fine."

_"Well, I know that, Liv,"_ he said over the line with a smile. _"But, really it's no problem, I'm already half way there anyway." _

She began to panic slightly. No, she didn't need this, she didn't need another reason for him to become angry with her. She just needed him to comply and give her some form of normalcy when she arrived. "Don't bother, El," she told him. "Really I'm fine."

_"Bother? It's on my way,"_ he said with a laugh. Her rejection struck him as odd, and even though he would be with her for the next six and half hours, at least, he still wanted to see her_. "Come on,"_ he tried to cajole her playfully.

"El..." she said helplessly, stepping a few more feet away from Mark. She didn't want to have to bring him up again, not when the subject was still sensitive and awkward, and not when she was in such a state of distress. It wasn't fair. Life just wasn't being fair. She was rather pissed off at life right now, it kept doing this to her. And it didn't help that she wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind and felt like crap.

_"What?"_ he asked obviously confused. _"I'm almost there."_

"Don't," she said, more firmly than she meant to.

_"Why? Liv, what is this? What's up?"_

"El, you can't come pick me up..."

_"Why not?"_

"Because," she started, hesitant to continue. "Because, I'm not at home..." She truly hoped that he wouldn't ask her to further explain, it was already more than she cared to share anyway.

_"Oh,"_ he instantly understood. All right, he looked like an ass. _"Oh, well then, uh, don't worry about it,"_ he said, hoping to cover the awkwardness that he'd so stupidly created. _"I'll just... see you there then."_

"Yeah," she sighed, feeling her heart clench. "Thanks though."

_"Sure,"_ he responded, pulling away from her apartment, and heading toward the precinct. _"No problem,"_ he managed to get out after a few more seconds of unwieldy silence, his voice audibly tight.

"Then I'll see you there?"

_"Yeah,"_ he replied hoping that she couldn't hear the unmistakable disappointment in his voice. _"Bye."_

She hung up and grabbed a fist full of her own hair, pulling it back from her face with an uneasy groan. She turned back around to see Mark still there, waiting for her to finish.

"Gotta go?"

"Yeah," she nodded as he approached. Embracing her once more, he rubbed her back a little, in a comforting manner before hugging her tighter. "I'm so sorry about tonight, I never meant for any of this to happen," he apologized, kissing her hair as she nested herself deeper into his embrace.

"I know," she assured him, sincerely. "It's not your fault, I'm just..." she trailed off with a sigh. "I don't know, tired or something," she said pulling away and giving him an enforcing smile. Somehow, he still wasn't entirely convinced, but knew that she had to go, so he'd save his questions for later. He only wanted to be sure that she was okay.

"Okay," he agreed, letting the subject drop. "Give me a call when you get the chance. I'll pick you up."

"Kay," she said, running her hand down his arm and placing a small kiss on his lips. "See you later."

"Drive safe."

"Okay," she told him, looking back as she walked out of the door.

**Sidewalk: Outside Mark Knowles' Apartment Building**

**Saturday, 8:37 pm**

As Olivia walked towards her car, trying to calm herself down, she heard her phone ring again. Looking at the caller ID, she saw that it was Elliot. Again. She hoped to God that he wasn't going to ask for Mark's address so he could come pick her up there. It would be just like him, use that as an excuse to see where he lives.

"Hello?" she asked tentatively after finally picking up.

"_Hey, sorry to call back so quickly but Munch and Fin just got our guy,"_ he told her, hoping that the relief of not sitting together in a car for another six hours would alleviate some of the discomfort he'd caused just minutes ago.

"They got Harris?" she asked surprised, and grateful. Hopefully the interrogation would be enough to distract her.

**16****th**** Precinct**

**Saturday, 8:50 pm**

As Olivia walked through the doors of the one six, she could hardly wait to simply throw herself into work. She was still traumatized by the incident that occurred not even an hour ago, and was actually quite surprised that she didn't get into an accident on the way over since she was still trying to sort herself out instead of paying attention to anything going on around her, including the road. She knew that work would lend her emotional impulses some much need relief, and God did she need that relief.

Walking into the squad room, she saw that Elliot was already there waiting for her. A smile lit his face when he saw her, hoping that they could skip over mentioning his first phone call, but when he looked more closely, his smile began to fade. He noticed that she not only looked exhausted, she looked withdrawn, as if 5 galaxies away, and completely occupied by her own thoughts. Had she been crying?

"You okay?" he asked as she put her things down and threw off her jacket.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered shortly, then taking off towards her locker.

He hadn't been expecting that. In fact, a seed of fear suddenly rooted in him at the thought that maybe _he'd_ been the one to cause this. But their second phone conversation, albeit shorter, had gone more smoothly than the first one, and it certainly hadn't indicated that behavior like that was to come. Did he miss the memo? Were they at odds again so soon? That would be ridiculous… Had something happened while she 'wasn't at home?'

"He in there?" she asked, walking back and motioning towards the interrogation room.

"Yeah, he's ready when we are," he replied, noticing that something was still off. He continued to watch as her eyes scanned vaguely over the room and she nodded her head. It looked as if she was ready collapse, and her eyes were visibly red. She'd definitely been crying. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked worriedly.

She looked over at him and blinked a few times as if she couldn't see anything, her eyes clearly unfocused. He instinctively stood up. She was starting to scare him. "Liv?"

"Yeah," she said breathily, not fully there, and wavering slightly. She went to grab on to her desk for support but missed, and thankfully, he was there to steady her. Holding on to him, and catching her breath, he came back into her line of vision. Realizing that he was holding her up, very closely at that, she looked down and released herself from his grasp. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

He glanced around quickly, then lowered his voice, and moved closer again. "What's going on with you?"

She looked at him incredulously, bringing her head back slightly as her eyebrow knit together. "Nothing."

"That's not 'nothing,' Liv," he told her seriously. "What happened?" he asked, hoping that he was right about his assumption that something actually _had happened_ and he wasn't just making an ass out of himself. Again.

Looking away, offended at his question, she sneered and then looked back at him in disbelief, as if he had been the one calling her a whore. "Nothing _happened_," she said backing away slightly. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," he said, his voice calm and sensitive, but mostly concerned.

"Well, I am fine, so drop it," she said, her voice rising ever so slightly, before she went to step around him to get to her desk. But as she attempted to side step him, he grabbed her arm before she could do so, and brought his voice down again.

"You practically just passed out, and you expect me to believe that you're _fine_?" he asked incredibly.

"Yes, and no I did not just pass out," she retorted in an equally low tone, yet hers was far fiercer and contained a biting edge. "I'm just a little light headed, _that's all._"

"You're being ridiculous, you know that?"

That's it. He was the ridiculous one now. Why couldn't he just take her perfectly logical explanation and leave her alone? She didn't want to think about what happened. She didn't want to think at all! She was getting a splitting headache, and she just need him to leave her alone and realize that he was supposed to be interrogating Harris, not her. "I'm fine," she hissed, closing her eyes, trying not to notice the throbbing as her body temperature began to skyrocket.

"I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be," she finished resolutely and walked off in the direction of the interrogation room, grabbing Brendan's file on the way.

**16****th**** Precinct: Outside of the Two-Way Mirror**

**Saturday, 9:00 pm**

He stood quietly listening on the other side of the glass window, watching his two best detectives at work, and hoping that this was their guy so that they could close the case by tomorrow. Harris looked nervous as hell and the interrogation had only just begun, either this guy was really guilty or really innocent.

"Sure," Harris said looking at the pictures Olivia had just handed him, a horrified expression on his face. "Angela's my girlfriend…" Cragen watched as Brendan's fingers traced the surface of the photographs, tears welling in his eyes. "Who did this to her?"

"That's what we want to know," Elliot commented from his laid back position on the wall. Uncrossing his arms and stepping forward, he walked over to the dark haired, scruffy looking younger man. "And right now, you're looking pretty good for this one Brendan."

"You think I killed her?!"

"Well, we've got at least one eyewitness who says that you've been stalking her for the last few months," Olivia told him seriously, staring him down with her dark brown eyes. "She broke up with you…you just couldn't stay away? Figure if you can't have her, no one can," she told him methodically, walking him through it, gauging his reaction. "We see it all the time."

"I didn't kill Angela," he said firmly with traces of fear adorning his face. "We're in love."

"_Were_ in love," Elliot corrected, getting a little closer to his face. "She dumped your ass hard and you just couldn't handle it. Couldn't let go? Decide to make her pay for what she did to you."

"No!" He said, his eyes gleaming with watery streams of terror. "No…No. I mean, yeah I followed her for a while, sure. But I just wanted to talk to her, I swear! I'd never hurt her…" He buried his head in his hands with a sob.

He saw Elliot step back, turning around, clearly thinking of how to handle this now. Olivia looked his way, into the mirror, and he noticed that she was sweating the bullets that should have been coming from Harris. Her forehead glistened below the florescent light fixture hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes looked sunken in and red. What was wrong with her? He wasn't quite sure if he'd ever seen her look this exhausted, or this weary. Should he take her out? Tell her to go home? He was worried about her, sure, but he was also worried about the interrogation. If this Brendan guy was nothing more than an actor, he needed to make sure that they got a confession – and Olivia, frankly, didn't look her best. He didn't want, or need, her to jeopardize this.

"Why'd you leave town the night after Angela was murdered?" Elliot asked in a stern tone that spoke all business. He was over this act, and wanted answers.

Brendan looked up with red, sunken eyes, and his mouth hanging open with the wetness from spilt tears smeared across his face. "My mom's… She's sick. She has a live-in nurse, but she called me that day, told me something'd happened with her family and she had to go out of town for a few days. She wanted to know if I could come down and take care of her. I swear that I was there since Thursday morning."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Olivia asked, wiping her brow and then putting her hair into a ponytail. "We talked to guys down at the restaurant where you work. They said you never called the entire time you were gone."

"I was in such a hurry to get down to Jersey that I don't know, it was the last thing on my mind," he explained. "I-I guess I figured that I'd call in sick once I got down there but, I was so worried… I just didn't think about it."

"Olivia," Cragen said, stepping through the door and motioning for her to follow. "I need to see you outside."

Confused, she looked to Elliot who simply shrugged his shoulders, equally bemused, but secretly glad that Cragen was pulling her out. She was pushing herself too far, even if she was so stubborn that she couldn't see it for herself. Hopefully she would go home and get some sleep. Could she even drive?

She got up slowly, making sure that she was completely steady this time as to not make a fool of herself – again, and walked out of the door past Cragen, leaving a distraught Brendan alone with her partner. She stood back and waited for her Captain to close the door and explain himself. He had no reason to take her out of there, especially not when all she wanted to do was have something to completely focus, what was left of her energy, on. Placing her hand on a nearby ledge, or was it a table, she tried not to let herself succumb to the darkness weighing on her eyelids. Whatever. She didn't care.

"Go home."

Her head shot up. "You're taking me off the case?"

"No," he told her plainly. "I'm sending you home. You don't look so good-" she heaved a sigh and was about to protest when he cut her off, and continued, "There's nothing else we can do tonight, and Elliot can finish this one up by himself. But even still, I don't really think we're going to get much out of him, he doesn't strike me as our guy."

"Cap, just…" she attempted to think of something to say that would convince him that being alone with her thoughts was not the solution to making her better right now. Interrogating Harris would, even if he wasn't their guy, it would at least divert her attention for a little while. "Give me a few more minutes with him."

Just then, Elliot came out of the small room as well, looking at both parties quickly before explaining himself. "I don't think he's our guy," he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets casually. "I mean, Cap, you saw those pictures, I don't think this guy's got it in him. Besides, I can't get another coherent word out of him," he said, jerking his head toward the glass, revealing a sobbing man balled up in the corner of the room.

"I can see that," Cragen agreed. "I was just telling Liv to go home, you'll both need sleep for your ride down to Jersey tomorrow. Make sure his story checks," he told them and they both nodded. "See that she gets home okay," he added, looking at Elliot who nodded again, and then walked out, ignoring Olivia's frustrated grunt at being treated like a child.

There was a small silence in which, the two stood somewhat awkwardly, before Elliot spoke. "You need me to give you a ride?"

"No, I'll be alright," she said softly. She ran a hand down the side of her face trying to rub away some of the stress that she knew was singed there. Part of her wanted Elliot to take her home. Hell, part of her needed him to, either because she was physically incapable or for other reasons entirely, it didn't matter. So she stood there, even if the other part of herself told her not to.

"Liv, come on, I have to pick you up tomorrow anyway," he told her, almost getting déjà vu at the thought of their conversation earlier that evening. Almost. It was different this time. He could tell - it was painfully obvious, at least to him, if not the rest of the world - that she wasn't fighting him even half as hard as she normally did. In a sense, it almost worried him more – something really screwy must have happened, but he was just so glad that she wasn't walking away, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on it too much. "Let me take you home…" he said coaxingly, still waiting for an answer.

Her reply came shortly after, but the small "Kay" was so soft, that he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard her say it. Before he could stop himself, he felt a sudden burst of relief rip through him, but could it be that easy? He looked at her, a little surprised that she'd permitted herself to succumb so quickly. He knew that she would have eventually, but still. She hadn't even tried to make it difficult.

Still standing silently, she could feel his questioning stare on her, and knew that ignoring it could only work for so long. She tilted her head slightly to meet his gaze and affirm that he'd heard correctly. Somehow she conjured a sincere smile, small but valid, and nodded her head. Slowly, he returned it and breathed a final sigh of thanks. "Alright."

_A/N: BRACE YOURSELVES for a good dose of sexy EOness in the next chapter! Who knows when it will be up... Unless you **REVIEW**. I'm going to write a song about REVIEWING, and you all will love it. Just wait. Speaking of which, does anyone else sing along to the SVU theme song? Like, I know it has no words, but do you make the noises and stuff? I do :)_


	7. Something Like Attraction

**A/N:** OH MY GOODNESS! It's been so long! But Japan was fun, lots of strange food and fashion going on but it was a blast. Florida was alright too, considering we went when Hurrican Fay hit but it was just a bunch of rain. All was well. Now, getting down to business: this chapter was not completely edited. But I'm leaving again this weekend for Labor Day & I just felt so bad for not having posted anything in so long, I just had to put something up. I hope you all can get past any errors or slip ups and enjoy it because usually I spend a really long time editing and getting the dialogue just right but I just haven't had the time with this one. SO... one witht he show.

Summary of Previous Chapters: Now I haven't updated in so long, I'm sure some of you have forgotten what's happening (or maybe that only happens to me) but, I figured I would do a little reminder. Olivia was over at Mark's apartment (her boyfriend), when his ex-wife showed up and was a mega btch. Liv was really tired and over emotional so she decided to leave since she had to be at work anyway (she and El were supposed take over the next shift of the stake-out of Angela Simmons' ex boyfriend because he's a suspect in their rape homicide case). On her way though, El called and told her that Fin & Munch had just gotten him in and that they needed to question him. She gets to the 1-6 and after almost passing out, the Cap sends them home because he can tell that she's overly exhausted and asks El to make sure that she gets home okay. Olivia agrees to let Elliot take her home and now we begin!

**Disclaimer**: I think we've established that they're not mine.

**Chapter 7: Something Like Attraction**

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My back begins to tingle

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**Sedan**

**Saturday, 9:37 pm**

Elliot drove easily through the streets of Manhattan without direction. He knew how to get there of course, he'd been there several times before. He glanced over at Olivia, taking in her seemingly incapacitated form. To his eyes, she appeared to be asleep, her forehead propped up against the side window as she leaned into the door. If only he'd known the truth.

The truth was, Olivia was far from sleep, even if her body was giving her every signal and indication that she should immediately surrender to it. She only closed her eyes to keep herself from becoming sick due to the fast moving lights zooming by the window, decorating the city as they moved through the streets. Besides, she was too exhausted to show any outward signs of the emotional distress that was sweeping through her like a hurricane in August. Something had happened to her once they'd gotten in the car. It was as if all of her insecure feelings from earlier had suddenly resurfaced yet again.

The truth was that right now, the farther away Mark was from her, in time and distance, the easier it became to detach herself from him. The truth was that she couldn't stop reliving the events from earlier that evening, trying to analyze why she felt this way. The truth was, that even though she knew it was nothing to be this upset about, her emotions, or her hormones, or whatever the hell it was that was doing this to her, didn't see it that way!

She could scream. She could burst into fits of tears and sobs if she'd had the energy. Too damn bad, too. Because all of those unheard screams, and all of those unshed tears, and deafened sobs, simply flung themselves at each other with incredible vengeance, while shrieking for release, but remained bottled up inside her. All she could do was sit back, and feel herself push him away, push her affection towards him away, just like she always did.

Mark. She didn't need him. She'd never felt more unhinged in her life than she did right now, and in her chaotic mental state, this was a direct result of her relationship with him. And if that was the truth, she didn't need him, because she sure as hell didn't need _this_. If being with him, being close to him, meant that this feeling was part of the deal, she was out. She didn't need that. Not now. Not ever. She hated it.

God, she wished she had the strength to cry.

Why did she always do this to herself?! Just when she was good, just when she was finally steady, she single handedly allowed the solid ground to crumble beneath her. Not only did she allow it though, on no. This was Olivia Benson, and Olivia Benson hammered away at her solid ground mercilessly and unconsciously, as if she were sleepwalking. Consistently, always on schedule, she managed to bring down the good things that were bestowed upon her the very second that she was given the chance. And tonight, she was given just such a chance, and she was running – no, sprinting – with it like she'd never done before. She was practically having a full mental break down. What the fuck was this?!

She'd promised herself, she'd _promised_ that she wouldn't do this anymore. But this was far beyond her normal M.O. Usually, she just split, there was something wrong with him just like every other human being, which was reason enough in her books, so it was sayonara. Plain and simple. Usually it didn't come with a side order of panicked anguish. But she couldn't help it, and it wasn't even at the thought of letting him go, she was way past that, this was the snowballing creation of her deranged mental status plaguing her.

All she really needed though was momentary stability, just a bit of firm earth to rest her heavy mind on, and she would snap out of it, she would. If only she could have seen that. And yet still, her fingers twitched feverishly, as if she knew exactly what she was looking for and just ached to touch it, grab hold of it, or at least hold on to the knowledge that it was there.

The SUV came to a halt. They'd arrived. Elliot turned off the car and looked over to his passenger, wishing that he didn't have to wake her, even if he could sense that she wasn't entirely peaceful. Nevertheless, he placed his hand on her left forearm, nudging her gently.

She knew that they were there, she'd felt the Sedan stop. But she didn't move, she wasn't sure she wanted to. The thought of going up to her apartment alone… He was going to leave her and then she'd have no one. The thought in itself was enough to make her want to collapse all over again. But just then, she suddenly felt a warm pressure weigh soothingly on her arm, very near her restless hand. At first, she wasn't quite sure what had happened. It was suddenly as if someone had knowingly applied the needed pressure to her bleeding emotional wound. All at once, she felt as if she'd just taken a breath of the most relaxing, and yet stimulating, oxygenated air, its serenity passing slowly through her lungs. Vaguely she could hear a soft, "Liv… Wake up, we're here." She could still feel the rhythmic stroking on her arm, then there was a soft squeeze, and it was gone.

Her eyelids fluttered open as she sharply inhaled, a real breath this time, but it just wasn't the same. All she could feel now was her body flooding with an inexplicable sense of loss. Her breathing increased slightly as her fingers fumbled, looking for the numbing agent that alleviated so much of her heated anxiety. The moment her fingertips found his, she instantaneously breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes closed calmly, and she sat back into the seat, straighter this time. She took in another therapeutic breath before opening her eyes again and looking down at their hands. Her somewhat shocked stare traveled from their laced fingers to his puzzled countenance, and then back again. What was she doing?!

"Sorry…" she mumbled meekly, her hand retreating into her lap as she refocused her gaze blankly ahead. What was happening to her? Why was she doing this to herself? To Mark? To their relationship? Why was she doing this to Elliot? What was she even thinking? _Elliot_? She really was insane. It was true. She was. She'd lost it. Completely.

Elliot, in the midst of his intense confusion, noticed her obvious upset and embarrassment. What the hell had happened to her? Had she and Mark broken up? Was that why she was so upset? Was that why she was reaching out to him? His heart clenched, both at the thought of that bastard hurting her like this, and then at the fact that she was so upset about it in the first place. She must have really loved him. He considered asking her if she needed to talk about it, but then thought better of it. She looked like she could barely make it up the stairs, let alone talk about such an emotional subject.

God dammit… He knew it. He knew this would happen. It had to, especially with a guy like _Mark_. And she probably felt like she couldn't talk to him about it. It was probably because she didn't want a big 'I-told-ya-so' thrown in her face. But didn't she know? Didn't she know that when she hurt like hell, somehow, in some twisted way that even he didn't understand, _he_ hurt like hell too? She was his partner, he cared about her…unlike this 'Mark' guy.

"Need me to walk you up?" he asked her softly.

"Yeah," she returned, in an equally quiet voice, more likely due to her palpable fatigue than anything else though. And once again, she surprised him. And yet she didn't. At the same time. It was a difficult feeling to explain, expecting, and yet not expecting, in unison. Strange as it was though, he accepted it.

They sat there for a few more moments, in silence, before her eyes shifted, landing upon his. This… This was genuine surprise. This he had not been expecting. The look divulging her features, adorning her pupils, he could not describe it. It stirred him, allowing his heart to beat a little faster, and his breath to catch slightly. Beneath her lazy cloak of tiredness, he saw a vulnerability that was often a stranger not only to his eyes, but to the eyes of the world as well. And tucked loosely behind that vulnerability, just along the rims of her darkened irises, he saw something else. Something that he could only attribute to… desire. But desire for what? A home? A family? A steady relationship? Him? _Him_? Ha. That was laughable. But as he searched her eyes for a moment longer, he almost began to think it wasn't such a crazy idea after all. He almost began to think he was wrong. Almost.

With a sigh, he tore his searching eyes away from hers. He couldn't let himself do this, not to her, not to Olivia. Olivia. His partner. No. Screw him for even thinking that way. He was married. And… And she was Olivia! And she was distraught. And exhausted. And he was a bastard. He was. Letting his thoughts take advantage of her innocent situation like that. Damn him. Damn him to hell. Well… Maybe not to hell. But seriously. How messed up could someone get? Olivia… Jesus. What was he thinking?

Before he knew it, he was opening the door and stepping out into the refreshing night air. Good. Maybe that would knock some sense into him. He ran his fingers over his shut eyes, meeting at the bridge of his nose, as he walked around the car and over to her side. He was actually pretty tired himself. Maybe that's why he was being so stupid. When he got to Olivia's door, he opened it and held out a hand to steady her as she climbed out of the vehicle. She accepted it without hesitation, even while dressed in a somewhat embarrassed expression, and placed her feet on the ground with a heavy sigh. He paused for a second, studying her actions while keeping a close grip on her arm, and a secure hand on the small of her back. She seemed to be reasonably alright, so they headed towards the door.

Each step, for Olivia, was weighed down by her corpulent emotional baggage, and although Elliot's familiar proximity aided significantly, she was still silently struggling. Nevertheless, they reached the door to her building without liability, and she took a strenuous moment to think about where she'd last placed her keys.

"Don't worry about it," she heard his voice, and saw that he was already unlocking the entrance with the keys she'd entrusted him with years ago. She smiled slightly – at what, she didn't know, but he returned it, and they entered. It was then that they were confronted with the real challenge – the four flights of stairs that would eventually land them at her door.

Both stood there for a moment or two, assessing the task at hand. Worried about her, Elliot angles his head to look down at her. "You okay?" he asked, pulling her a little closer, for support of course, as they prepared to make their way up. He felt her lean in slightly and nod a little into his jacket. He didn't know if they'd actually ever been this close before, and he certainly could never remember a time where he'd felt like this before either. And suddenly, just as he was about to make the first move – in terms of climbing up the stairs – he felt her arm slither under his coat, and settle itself comfortably around his waist.

It was all he could do, not to damn himself to hell all over again. He glanced down at her closed eyes, and fixed figure that had somehow molded itself onto the side of his body, and had to practically force himself to remember what he was here to do. Drop her off. And leave. Get outta there, and forget every single thing that she'd made him feel. Because it wasn't right. It just wasn't. It was wrong. He just knew it. It had to be. It felt right. But it wasn't. Feelings could deceive. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He could not have told himself this enough times as they trekked up to her apartment.

Perhaps against her better judgment, perhaps not, she'd slid her arm right through that perfect spot between his shirt and his jacket, merely to hold herself up, of course. It was four flights of stairs after all. Or at least that's what she told herself. She couldn't say that she regretted it, and the rush of tingles that flew through her body the second she had acted upon her impulse, was enough to make her almost giddy. She was far too fatigued to feel completely ridiculous though, so she accepted it for what it was, her eyes falling shut as she breathed in his scent, and allowed him to lead her up the stairs.

It was funny. Every time they ascended to a new step, the pressure of applying weight upon the platform below to lift themselves up to the next one, caused their bodies to clumsily collide with one another over and over again. With every step, she felt the material of his coat smush against her face, and she could not fight the smile curving at the ends of her lips. It was almost in a dream-like state that she observed this though. In fact, if she had not been so intensely registering every aspect of her current position, the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt as they walked, or the way he held her a little tighter as they rose to the next step, she could have easily fallen asleep. The warmth from his body was melting through her, encompassing her senses in a new sensation that she wasn't quite sure she'd ever felt before. Suddenly, she was no longer Olivia, and he was no longer Elliot, and they were no longer _partners_, there was no longer _the job_. The way he'd so easily been able to dissolve those small, yet seemingly significant, facts from her somewhat conscious mind, astounded her.

She was making this difficult. She was making this difficult for him. And she was making this difficult for him in such a way, that doubts were beginning to spill carelessly into his train of thought. Every time he told himself that the feelings swelling beneath his skin were wrong, she wordlessly told him that they weren't. Every time he cursed himself for holding her so close, she blessed him with a smile. Every time he started to think he was losing his mind, she somehow affirmed his sanity. Maybe this was reasonable. And maybe this was how it was supposed to be. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't crazy. But he was. He was. He mercilessly had to remind himself over and over, because the second that he didn't, the second that he forgot, they'd both be done for. He knew this.

They finally reached the fourth level, and he led her towards the 3rd door on the left. He saw that door and thanked God that he'd made it this far. He was unsure how much longer he could have fought off those doubts with his sensible frame of mind.

Arriving at their destination, he took note of the fact that she was still leaning heavily into his support. Did she realize that they were here? Was she asleep? He didn't quite know, especially after she sighed dreamily into his side, so he decided that he would just have to prop her up against the wall while he unlocked the door. And he did. Gently grabbing both of her shoulders, he rested her back against the wall, right next to her door, so that he could toy with the lock.

She felt him let go – again – and she felt her heart race as anxiety began to trickle through her – again. And what the hell was he thinking? Didn't he know that she needed him? She closed her eyes trying not to think about it, trying to calm herself into believing that she would be okay, but it was just so damn hard. You didn't just take someone off of a respirator when their lungs were getting stronger, but that's exactly what he'd just done to her. He'd cut off her air supply. Just when he'd almost fixed her. Who'd he think he was? Well, there was no way she could just stand by and let herself drown in her own weakness, not when the cure was a mere foot away. Her hand found his shoulder again, and she let it trail down the length of his arm to meet his fingers. She felt better.

He couldn't quite process what was happening, not when she was trailing her hand down his arm like that. Just when he'd thought that he was in the clear, here she was holding his hand. And here she was, grabbing onto his other hand, pulling him over to her. Why? It didn't matter. Not really. The only clear thought flashing through his mind was that there was no hope for him. He was letting her do this. He was letting her pull him closer – letting her hold his hands. And he was holding hers back. What did she want? When his thoughts were piling up and his pulse was racing, how could he possibly know? How could he know what to do in this situation that she had so casually created? It was only when she lifted her eyes to his, that everything came to a deafening halt. His questions vanished. His doubts disappeared. He knew exactly what she wanted. Or at least he thought he did.

Could it be real though? He could hardly breathe – she was so close, and she was looking at him like that, and yet he wanted her closer. His heart was about to explode, he was so nervous because her eyes were like magnets, drawing him in without consent. Those eyes were telling him that she knew exactly what she was doing, that she was so sure, but his mind was telling him that that was impossible. How could her eyes hold such a power over him when just seconds earlier, she'd been practically out cold? It didn't make sense. Nothing did. She was so close.

And suddenly, when he drew breath, it was her air that he was breathing, and it was her perfume that was clouding his senses, and it was her hips that he was holding, and it was her hands on his arms. Still, it couldn't be real, and he couldn't be sure, not without her telling him that it was. He couldn't trust his own judgment to tell him the truth.

"Liv…"

Desperation graveling his tone, his voice came out soft, and low, asking her every question that kept them apart, even if that was only inches by now. It was almost unbearable to hear her name drip despairingly from his lips, seeking confirmation, seeking permission. He couldn't see that this was exactly what she wanted – what she needed? He couldn't see that she was practically begging him to fix her, to make it all disappear? She could feel herself shaking because she'd never done this before – she'd never allowed herself to feel his breath on her face, his hands on her sides, his eyes waiting for an answer that she couldn't possibly wait to give.

She wasn't sure if she could manage a verbal response though…was she really going to have to show him? Her hand lifted shakily from his jacket, and almost hesitantly placed itself on the side of his face where she could feel the softness of his skin below the short stubble that existed there in the late hour, which she found sexy as hell. She could feel his heated breath on her mouth intensify as he instinctively drew even closer, if at all possible to do without actually making contact. Feeling her breath shorten rapidly as the heat between them dangerously accumulated, she wasn't sure if she could take the distance any longer, and knowing this, she let her thumb slip down to the side of his lower lip, hoping that this slight gesture would be enough to convince him.

Before he could allow another contradicting thought to penetrate the powerfully induced fog that clouded his sensibility, he felt his lips masterfully clasp onto hers, as if in slow motion. It was then that his world was thrown completely upside down, and his reeling hesitations came to an utter standstill, halted by the moment he'd subconsciously dreamt about for years. And they stayed like this, overwhelmed by the swarming world around them that, essentially, did not exist, not now, in this moment in time, it didn't. It's the simplistic perfection of it all that sweeps through him as he holds her in his arms, with his lips on hers, like the last two pieces of an endless puzzle miraculously united for the first time. Slowly though, still drawn to the moment, he gradually tore the skin of his lips from hers with an almost reluctant grace.

The lids of their eyes cautiously flickered open, and it was then that he realized that he'd been holding his breath, forgetting his body's natural requirement for oxygen. Suddenly, they both let out the air, which had hence been caught, creating an unintentional pant-like sound that logically just screamed with want. It's then that his heart beats a little faster in a race to catch up with himself, and when he finally inhales once more, he's caught off guard when she brushes her mouth against his. All he can think is that this can't be happening. Not again. It was too surreal, and his mind needed to catch up to his heart, which was racing so far ahead of him by now, it was long since gone. Nevertheless, he responded to her, pushing his mouth against hers and enveloping them both in a kiss anchored with emotion. And after lacing her lips with gentle kisses that only furthered the fog of his confusion, he felt her lips part slightly, inviting him to take it farther. He could feel the wetness of her mouth on his, tingle with anticipation, but he couldn't do it. All of a sudden he was flooded with guilt – it was only minutes ago that she was half passed out in his arms as he practically carried her up the stairs, and here he was now, kissing her, _her_, her-Olivia-her! How could he be such a jerk, taking advantage of her vulnerable state of mind like that? Did he truly have no control over his actions? How would she ever forgive him tomorrow when she finally came to?

Olivia could feel her lips parting, hoping that he'd continue what they'd started. It was so wonderful, not a trace of the self-doubt or the horrid confusion that had soaked through her bones earlier was palpable now. It was amazing how he affected her, how he could make the world disappear, make her feel so important, as if she was all that mattered. And then he was gone. Suddenly, he pulled away and she could practically feel the air being ripped from her lungs. Her eyes shut closed and her brow involuntarily furrowed, giving off an almost pained expression of confusion upon her face.

"Wha-"

His hand reached over and twisted the knob, and he pushed the door open, feeling like crap for letting her down – as a person, as her partner...as her friend. "Night Liv," he said quietly, too ashamed to look at her. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, maybe as reassurance, maybe as an apology – he didn't know, but after that, he made his way down the hall, not looking back.

"God," she whispered in a silent prayer, bringing a hand to her face and rubbing her eyes, hoping that maybe if she could shut them tight enough, she wouldn't completely fall apart. If she had been looking for stability in her partner, she sure as hell hadn't found it. It was anything and everything but. Her insides clutched twice as hard, churning and mocking her for being so stupid. But she wouldn't cry. No matter how unhinged she was now, she wouldn't let herself cry over him, she was too strong – and too tired – for that, she didn't cry over men, over rejection. She just wasn't sure how much longer she could take the rejection that he was dishing out to her.

Somehow though, she found it in her to stumble through the door of her apartment and-

"Liv!"

She jumped as her name sounded throughout the room in a concerned tone of voice, but when she saw the owner of that concerned voice, it was a wonder that she didn't lose it then and there.

Her mind was on overload and nothing was adding up, absolutely nothing. "What are you doing here?"

Mark looked at her worriedly as he approached. "I wanted to check on you, make sure you're okay," he said placing a soothing hand on her arm, hoping that would ease her into talking to him but she jerked away, and instantly saw his worry heighten. "What's wrong?" he asked with a note of seriousness in his voice.

"Nothing, I'm-" she didn't know what to say. She wasn't fine. She'd just kissed Elliot. _Elliot_! What the hell was wrong with her?! And now Mark was here. He'd been right inside during the whole thing. How could she have been so careless?

She needed to think. She needed to get away from him and think, she needed to rethink everything. And he needed to stop looking at her like that or… or she'd just explode. "I just…" she began, and then realized that she did have the strength to cry. Her eyes burned with tears, and her throat when dry. What had she done… she'd ruined everything.

"Olivia," Mark said becoming increasingly concerned. "Honey, what's wrong?" his voice was urgent and almost pleading, which made her feel even more guilty, if at all possible.

She sighed deeply, trying to rid herself of the guilt weighing heavily on her chest. She needed him to leave. She needed him to go. But he wouldn't understand that. She stepped to the side but then stopped. She didn't know where she was going. She was just so tired. A few tears fell from her eyes due, most likely, to the stress she was feeling. "I just – I have to go," she finally spat out and swept off to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

**Benson Residence **

**Saturday, 10:01 pm**

Olivia lay in a heap on her bed, surrounded by the darkness of her room that seemed to reflect her own emotions. She was still in her clothes from earlier that day but it didn't matter. Not really. She just couldn't get over it. She couldn't understand how she'd messed everything up so badly. How could she have pushed Mark so far from her mind, far enough to allow herself to kiss someone else? And not just someone else… it was Elliot. Elliot, her partner, her God damned _married_ partner! How would she ever face him tomorrow? She was so humiliated. And so ashamed. She was ashamed at what she'd done to Elliot, and Mark. He was so good to her. She loved him, and yet she let herself do this to him, to everyone. She was just so disgusted with herself. Even through her weak tears, she could feel her skin crawling. But not for long. Her sobs soon died out, suffocated by the exhaustion that claimed them all too quickly.

_A/N: Well I hope that was okay! I'm not sure I feel about it yet but hopefully I'll get the next chapter up quickly. **REVEIWS** always help though ;) Whether it was terrible or whether you liked it, do tell. I'd love to know! _


	8. Something Like Words

**A/N:** So... Last chapter when I said it'd been a long time HA. Wow, who knew it would take 3 something months for the next one to get posted up here. I am SO sorry. I'd like to promise that it wont happen again, and I don't think it will since I've got the next few chapters mapped out. It's just a matter of sitting down and typing them... Oh well, I sincerely hope that none of you stop reading because of this little bump in the road! _Especially since all the good stuff is coming up!!!_ SORRY :(

**Summary of Previous Chapters:** _Now I haven't updated in so long, I'm sure some of you have forgotten what's happening (or maybe that only happens to me) but, I figured I would do a little reminder._ Olivia was over at her boyfriend, Mark's apartment and his ex-wife showed up and was completely awful to Liv. She left and went to work where they had Angela Simmons' (victim) ex boyfriend in interrogation as their only solid lead. Everyone at the house agrees afterward that he's not their perp but El & Liv will have to leave in the morning to go to NJ to check out his alibi anyway. Cragen asks Elliot to take Olivia home because it's obvious that she's not feeling well and surprisingly, Olivia lets him. Liv's a little out of sorts (actually a lot) and she lets her impulses get to her and we have an EO kiss at her door. Elliot feels guilty because he feels like he's taking advantage of her since she's so out of it and pulls away, then leaves. Liv's confused and feels rejected and goes inside only to find Mark there. He was worried about her after his wife came over but she freaks out and realizes that she's just kissed her partner and has a little break down in her room. And thus we begin... (sorry again!!!)

**Disclaimer:** I don't think anyone would WANT me to own them after such a long dry spell of updates...

**Chapter 8: Something Like Words **

* * *

I'll never say enough

* * *

**Benson Residence**

**Saturday, 10:05 pm**

Mark sat on her sofa with his eyes intensely focused, or more legitimately unfocused, on the simplicity of her coffee table. His fingers vagrantly moved over his mouth, scraping against the stubble that was unfailingly there in the late hour. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been at such a complete loss. All he could do was replay day's events in his mind, attempt to find where he'd gone wrong. He didn't know that he could allow his thoughts to run over time like smoothly flowing water and never get any closer to finding an answer, it wouldn't help. The same question that his mind was desperately searching to find an answer for, would continue to eat at him relentlessly for hours to come: What the hell just happened?

He felt as though she'd stopped the car, dumped him in the desert and sped off without a word. Stranded. He felt stranded. He was stranded.

She couldn't still be upset over what Jackie had said earlier - well she could, but not like _that._ He'd never seen her like that before, albeit they'd been dating for only a few months but if this was her norm, one would think that'd he'd be accustomed to it by now... No, it had to be something else. It had to be. But what? She was the strongest person he knew, she didn't just let herself fall apart. Not like that. It had to be something incredibly severe, incredibly altering. A case perhaps? A really _rough_ case. But if that was truly it, he couldn't help her - there'd be nothing he could do but offer her comforting words and in reality, how often did that help? But what about her co-workers? Surely they knew what had happened, they should know the extent of her upset, the detailed reasons for it. What about that guy she worked with, her partner, maybe he could help her. Of course the idea that another man knew more and was better equipped to assist her just rubbed him the wrong way on so many levels, but for her, he'd make the call. For her, if it meant she'd be alright, he would do it. He'd shut up, swallow his pride, he would do that for her.

But he didn't even know the guy's number anyway. Hell, he didn't even know his name. She'd never really talked about him much. Why? He never pressed her for answers when it was obvious that she'd rather not talk about something. Now he wished that he had.

God, he wished that he could help her.

He'd considered trying to knock on her door, see if maybe she'd talk to him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. She was too distraught for conversation, he liked to think that he could tell that much. She needed space, for now at least, so he would just go home.

It seemed wrong to just leave her though. It seemed wrong to go without reassuring her that he was always there for her. Always. He just didn't know how to let her know that while giving her the time and space that she needed at the same time. He could just write a note and slip it under her door. It seemed logical enough. But then he felt guilty. Guilty for leaving. He felt like he'd really screwed up in his inability to understand, to be there for her. Leaving would just intensify all of that. But then again, what else could he do? Sleep on her couch and have her wake up in the morning when she still might not be ready to talk? No... He would leave. He'd deal with his guilt somehow, it's not like he'd intended to sleep anyway.

Finally, he ripped his eyes off of her table and looked around for where she might keep a notepad. Soon enough he'd found one and smiled a little bit upon noticing the bumblebee that decorated the top of every sheet. He didn't know why he found it surprising though, he was constantly finding little things like that around her apartment. Quickly, he scribbled down a note for her and folded it in half. He crept quietly to her door where he listened for any signs of life and was grateful that he could not longer hear her sobs. So grateful. Crouching down, he carefully slid the small piece of paper beneath her door. He didn't say anything, hoping that maybe she'd fallen asleep.

As he carefully stood up, he felt his shoulders fall slightly, felt his heart sink a little. But he still loved her just the same. He only hoped she knew that.

**Benson Residence**

**Sunday, 8:00 am**

Vaguely, as if under water, Olivia could hear the sound of her name being called from a distance. For the first few minutes while she drifted in and out of consciousness, this remained unimportant, annoying even, but once she fully realized that there was someone actually calling her name, she woke abruptly. Sitting up a little, she rubbed at the eye make up on her unwashed face. There was a knock on the door and the sound of her name once more, and she cursed lazily, realizing that she hadn't set her alarm last night and was probably late for work. Frantically, she stumbled in an ungraceful, somewhat-still-sleeping sort of fashion before the events of last night began to slowly reel through her mind. Her hurried steps slowed with every new realization that came back to her, every memory more paralyzing than the one before. Reliving the night in just a few short seconds, she instantly became fully awake and her skin started crawling all over again.

Another knock at the door, a little louder this time, and she realized that it was Elliot at her door. Her hands slapped against her face knowing that what she had done last night would change things between them forever. Even if the idea sounded entirely overdramatic and incredibly cliché, it was true. It was too true. Too real. She almost couldn't handle how raw it was... He couldn't trust her anymore. She had in essence, willed him to break his marriage vows. She had seduced him. Elliot. Her partner. She couldn't keep herself from coming back to that, the idea that she'd done this to her _partner_. She could die right now. She could just die. How on earth could she answer that door with the knowledge that he was behind it?!

The knocking continued and she knew that if she didn't answer it soon, he'd simply let himself in. How great that would make her look. She could just see it: He walks in and finds her there staring at the door like some drunken, half dressed…seductress! Great. No, that couldn't happen. But she didn't know what she was going to say to him, what she possibly _could_ say to him. She couldn't understand how he could even find it in him to talk to her let alone come knocking. Jesus! Why hadn't he just called?!

After pacing back and forth for a few moments though, she drew her hand shakily towards the knob, and pulled it open to see an incredibly calm, albeit slightly concerned, normal Elliot standing there plain as day. Suspicion, and surprise crept into the corners of her eyes as she began to doubt her own memory. Could it seriously all have been a dream? Everything about him, from his stance to his expression told her that it was. All of it. Everything. It had to be because there was no way he was standing there looking at her like that unless it had all been a figment of her imagination. No way.

"You okay? I tried calling but your phone was off," he explained, seeing the somewhat questioning, shocked look that graced her features. She didn't exactly look like she was at her best but who could blame her? After what he'd done to her, he could only imagine what kind of night she'd had after he'd left. Seeing that she hadn't even changed her clothes from last night in addition to her swollen eyes, undoubtedly from countless tears, only thickened the guilt that was mulling in his lungs. He was actually surprised that she hadn't hit him yet. Hopefully that was a good sign.

Throughout the course of his sleepless night, he had had the opportunity to contemplate this very moment and his conclusion was that the best, and probably only, way to deal with this situation was to act as normal as possible. If she wanted to talk about it, they would talk about it, but he figured that it was best not to acknowledge the events of the previous night. Or maybe it was just easier and he was kidding himself, he didn't know. Whichever it was though, he had a feeling that he couldn't ignore it forever. His conscience wouldn't let him do that. He felt so low about his actions that he knew it would only be so long before he came out and apologized to her. "Take it you're not ready to go?"

She finally tore her puzzled eyes from his and looked down at herself, snapping out of her dazed state. "Um, uh, yeah," she said, shaking her head a little, she would have to process all of this later. "Sorry, just give me 5 minutes…"

"Sure."

She walked quickly towards her room and stopped, turning around to look at him again. "You can um, come in, I'll just be two seconds," she said with a small and slightly preoccupied smile, before running off again and leaving him no opportunity to respond. So, he stepped inside and closed the door knowing that she was already feeling unsure about the whole situation. God, he prayed that they could get through the day.

**Sedan**

**Sunday, 8:45 am**

The low hum of the engine, combined with the lingering silence between the two passengers, created a strained feeling within the vehicle as Olivia watched the various aspects of landscape race by the window. Her fingertips incessantly twisted the studded earring in her right ear while her eyes remained unfocused on the blur that was on the other side of the glass barrier. Her thoughts wouldn't stay still.

It had been nearly 30 minutes since they initiated their trip to New Jersey in order to investigate the whereabouts of Angela Simmons' ex-boyfriend on the night of her murder. Olivia didn't exactly feel as though this was worth a trip down to New Jersey since she, and the rest of her colleagues, agreed in their shared opinion that Brendan Harris was innocent, but her judgment was also reasonably clouded by the ever-growing tension filling their vehicle of transport.

When they'd first gotten into the car, Elliot attempted some casual small talk, hoping to ease them back into a semi-normal routine, but Olivia's head was still reeling from the night before. The more she thought about it, the more she could feel her muscles clenching beneath her skin – and he was being so nice to her! It only made her feel worse. She'd shifted uncomfortably in her seat for the first few minutes before they both silently agreed not to talk at all.

Seeing how guarded and uptight she was, only made Elliot feel increasingly to blame. With every passing moment he could feel the flame of his fault spreading like wildfire across his neck. Every time the little glowing numbers on the dashboard clock signaled that another minute had gone by, he felt his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. His knuckles were turning white.

The knowledge was just eating him alive, tearing into his heart, ripping away at his lungs - it was getting harder to breathe. He knew that he alone was responsible for her anguish. He knew that he'd been a total jackass by taking advantage of her like that. He knew that she shouldn't forgive him. He knew that. He knew all of that. He did, and he couldn't let her go on thinking that he was just okay with it. He couldn't. But the minutes kept passing. His neck kept burning. His knuckles kept paling. Compelled to say something, to apologize to her, he prayed that somehow everything would work itself out. It was only then that he realized that this rarely ever happened. Correction: it never happened.

Keeping his eyes ahead on the road, he recalled how he'd imagined this would play out from the various scenarios that he'd dreamed up last and yet still had no idea what to expect.

Cautiously, he cleared his throat, but nothing ensued. He had words. He did. He had lots of words, words that he'd come up with just for her, words that would hopefully explain everything, words that would make her not hate him, but they were suddenly nowhere to be found. He had to find them. He had to find the words to make this right. She deserved that. He didn't care if she still decided to hate him, he wouldn't blame her. He didn't even care if by some miracle, his words worked and she forgave him. He just knew that they could get this over with so that whatever followed, would follow. Good or Bad. Probably the later. But whatever it was, it had to be better than this nervous tension rippling through them like the undercurrent from hell. He stretched his neck awkwardly and stole a few glances at her before he could really up his nerve enough to make the words come out. He thanked God when they did.

"Um, Liv…" he began, slightly unsure of himself and his voice, no doubt, reflected that. "Listen, I – about last night-"

All of a sudden her stomach decided to take a pit stop and her face lost all its color. Blood pounded in her ears. Her heart missed a few too many beats. Her skin already seared with embarrassment, with shame, with fear. Panic swam through her - she had to stop him, he couldn't finish that sentence, there was a very good chance that she would die of humiliation right there on the spot if he did. "I don't want to talk about it, Elliot," she said quickly before he had the chance to keep going. Her voice came out harsher than she'd meant it to, but she supposed that maybe, in this case, that wasn't such a bad thing. She couldn't bear the burden of his words, they would surely have entered her ears and seeped into her blood, killing her like a deadly virus. She wouldn't have survived. She couldn't handle hearing him tell her that he was a married man, and that he could _do_ things like that, things like what they'd done last night. She already knew that, and she couldn't believe that she'd endangered his marriage like this, especially when it was already is such a fragile state.

Caught slightly off guard by the celerity of her comment, he shut up. His words retreated and he burned in hell from the intensity of a thousand suns. The End.

Well not exactly because the car was still operating and he could still feel his body tense under the pressure of the loudest silence he'd ever heard. Even if he _was _still alive, if he'd had the option to drop off the face of the earth right now, he'd take it. She was upset, she'd remembered everything now and she hated him for it. How could he have managed to turn everything into such shit?

And what was even worse was that he could not control his eyes, they wouldn't stop darting over at her no matter how much he willed them not to. She was like a freaking magnet. And it wasn't doing him any good, all of this staring at her. She had herself cornered off towards the window and looked as though she couldn't move even if she tried, he wasn't even sure if she was breathing. How could he blame her though? In a single moment he'd broken their trust, the trust that she'd instilled in him over the years. Gone. Just like that. He was an asshole.

The two sat in the deafening silence for the majority of the remainder of the trip. Olivia crossed her arms and continued to stare out the window. She knew Elliot was looking at her, she could feel his stare burning in her pores. She sure wished that he'd cut it the hell out. Not that she had the right to wish such things considering the situation. Upon realizing that he was glimpsing in her direction every few seconds though, she'd tried to make herself look more natural, less crippled but it only made her look more staunch. It was all just perfect.

Soon enough though, they made their way into a step-up-from-shabby looking neighborhood, almost there. Thank God. Rolling through the suburban streets, Olivia anticipated the moment that she would be able to free herself from this hellhole and get to work. As they searched for the narrow strip of pavement that would lead them to their destination, her anxiety grew, only slightly lessened by the distraction of their quest. Elliot turned left on Raleigh Lane and said, "Keep an eye out for 840."

"Kay…" she replied, relieved that her voice showed no signs of abnormality. "It should be coming up on the right."

Elliot finally began to slow the Sedan down to a halt in front of a rather average looking one-story house that exhibited nothing that was exactly noteworthy. Plain.

"This it?" Olivia asked rather rhetorically, but she supposed that Elliot decided to respond out of the mere fact that words had suddenly become an option.

Looking down at the scrap of paper in his hand and then back up at the number on the house, he gave a simple, "Yep."

Her fingers wrapped around the handle as she opened the door and got out, grateful to get to work instead of remaining in the simmering awkwardness of such a condensed space. She walked ahead to the door, not waiting for her partner, and knocked firmly. Elliot consciously chose to stay a good three feet behind her under the circumstances.

Within moments, an elderly woman came to the door. She came up to Olivia's shoulder at the absolute most and held a cane shakily in her left hand. "Can I help you?" came her voice with a strength disproportionate to her small frame.

"Yes, are you Mrs. Harris?" Olivia asked, her words containing a softness that made Elliot wish that she were talking to him. It was ridiculous what her voice did to him, the way it weighed on his chest and pulled at his heart. Something so effortless to her shouldn't do something so intense to him, even putting aside the fact that she was his partner. And he was married. Shit.

"I am," she confirmed with a warmth in her eyes that was rarely found on such occasions. "What can I do for you?"

"We just need to ask you a few questions in regards to your son's whereabouts last Thursday evening," she explained, watching the woman's friendly face go wrought with dread.

"Why, what happened? Is Brendan okay? Is he hurt?"

"Your son is fine Mrs. Harris," she reassured the woman in that voice of hers again. How could anyone love and hate something so much at the same time? Still standing behind her, he removed his gaze from her dark hair and saw a look of relief sweep over Mrs. Harris' face. "We just need to know if you can account for his presence."

"You said Thursday?" Olivia nodded. He watched her slightly cloudy eyes drift upward in thought fleetingly before remembrance found her. "Yes, he was here."

"You're sure?" Elliot finally stepped in.

"Yes," she defended. "I'd called him a few days before just to check in, Monday I think it was, and anyway, I'd had a slight cough. During the conversation, somewhere along the line he'd overheard and asked if I was ill. I insisted that I was _not_ but he insisted that I _was_ and told me he was on his way. I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn't hear of it so yes, he was here."

"When did he leave?" Olivia asked just to ensure that her story matched up with the facts.

"Yesterday I believe," she told them. There was a slight pause before she continued. "Is that all?"

"No, just one more thing," Elliot said stepping forward a bit and the front of his shoulder involuntarily came flush against the back of hers. He hadn't intended to do that. Some things are unintentional. "Did you know if your son was seeing anyone?"

"There was one girl recently yes," she nodded her head slowly attempting to remember. "But we've never met…I'm not sure if I could even tell you her name."

Olivia and Elliot both nodded and thanked her for her time before saying goodbye. As Mrs. Harris closed and locked the door, the two detectives turned and began to descend the few porch steps that lead to the Sedan.

Steps.

Olivia cursed within the hallows of her own mind. Last night there had been steps. Lots of steps. They'd seemed endless. But she hadn't minded. She hadn't minded because he'd helped her up all of those steps. She'd wanted him to. _Wanted_. She'd _wanted_ him to. Her skin suddenly caught fire as she was drowned by the memory of her arm so casually slipping beneath his jacket, the way he hadn't minded, the way he'd held her, how safe she'd felt…Of course she felt like crap now. She ran a hand loosely through her hair hoping that the soon-to-be fall air would temper the redness of her cheeks. God help her if every five minutes something new was going to remind her of that night. As if seeing Elliot everyday wouldn't be punishment enough. The last thing she needed was a new wow-you-really-screwed-up-this-time-Benson sign blinking annoyingly in front of her face constantly through out the day.

She should really just learn to control herself. But she did control herself. That was the thing, she'd spent the better part her life controlling herself. She didn't drink excessively, she didn't have relationships with married men, she didn't kill perps just because she felt like it, and she _didn't_ think of Elliot like that. She didn't. So why the hell did all of that control just decide to take a vacation last night when she needed it the most?

"Well, his story checks out," Elliot deadpanned as they approached the vehicle, referring to Brendan's claims that he was in New Jersey at the time of Angela's murder.

"Yeah but where do we go from here?" she asked trying to focus on the case. She was screwed. Really she was. "That was our only lead."

Opening the door with a small sigh of frustration that often showed up when they were at a dead end, he suggested, "Well, we could go through her finances again…see if anything surfaces."

She did the same, closing the door firmly behind her, sealing herself within the confines of the small space that most would consider 'roomy.' "I don't know, Munch and Fin went through them a few times even after I did and still didn't find anything. Not sure how much we'll gain from doing it again."

"True," he agreed, shaking the steering wheel a little since the key had been sticking lately. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the large SUV started and he shifted into gear. "You want to grab a bite to eat before we head back?"

She thought for a moment about what the consequences of having lunch would be. On one hand, if she agreed, she and Elliot would be dutifully obligated to engage in some form of awkward conversation. He might bring last night up again. Or it could be completely normal, comfortable even. Ha. That was funny. Hilarious. She should have been a stand up comic, at least then she wouldn't be in this situation. But on the other hand, she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She also knew that even if she dismissed his offer, he'd probably stop and get something for himself anyway and then she would have to sit in her self-created silent torture, which was just as bad, if not worse.

"Okay."

He nodded slightly as he pulled around the corner and a larger street. "Alright, I think there's a deli right before we get back on the interstate," he commented vaguely, and it was as if lightning struck her brain.

"Elliot wait, don't you remember that kid we talked to at the diner across the street from Angela's dance studio? The son. The one the told us about Brendan?"

"Yeah," he recalled, a little confused about where she was going with this.

"When we talked to him, he told us that there had been two guys showing up every time she had class but we just assumed that Brendan was our perp, we never actually checked into the other one," she explained hoping that he'd see the light at the end of the tunnel the same way that she had, hoping that he'd see that they still had somewhere to go from here. In essence, it was hoping that he'd simply agree with her, see the opportunity, but in her mind it was a little bit more than that – it would mean that everything didn't have to change, it would mean that they were still on the same wavelength somehow, it would mean that they still had _something_. It would mean that she still had _something_ to hang on to.

She watched him think back to that day, sitting on the edge of her seat in anticipation. After what seemed like hours though, his head began to nod slightly. "You're right… We never did look into that." A small smile flit across his face at the prospect of the new lead, or maybe just because the little things like that, that happened every day, made him proud of her. It didn't matter.

_A/N: It's been a while since I read the entire chapter and since I have to get started on homework, etc, I don't have time to right now. SO, I hope the flow was okay. Anyway, chapter 9 will be up soon [cross your fingers] & **Review**, really those are about the only things that keep me going. Tell me what you think how it's going so far. _

_EXPECT: In the next chapter expect the beginnings of the real story here to unfold. Make sure you pay attention for it though! It's just the start..._


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